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LARS 

A PASTORAL OF NORWAY 
AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 

BAYARD TAYLOR 



WITH NOTES AND A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



^^^^sm 



HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

Boston: 4 Park Street; New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street 
Chicago: 378-388 Wabash Avenue 



CONTENTS. \ ^ \ ^ . 

\ Pagh 

Biographical, Sketch ....... 3 

Lars: A Pastoral of Norway 7 

To John Greenleaf Whittier 8 

Introductory Kemarks 9 

Lars 11 

The Song of the Camp 85 

The Paijm and the Pine 87 

Scott and the Veteran 90 

A Thousand Years 93 

Marigold 96 



92191 



ibrwry of Ck>nares« 

iw«- r.(»p«ES Receivfo 
DEC 22 1900 

Cujjyrigni entry 



SECOND COPY 

Odivtred to 

ORDER DIVISION 

DEC 2 8 gflOQ 



Copyright, 1873, 
By JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. 

Copyright, 1885, 
By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 

Copyright, 1901, 
By marie TAYLOR. 

All rights reserved. 



The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mast., U. 8. A. 
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company 



BAYARD TAYLOR. 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 

Bayard Taylor was born January 11, 1825, in 
Kennett Square, Pennsylvania. He was of Quaker de- 
scent, and although not actually belonging to the 
" Friends," was reared in the principles of their Soci- 
ety. His education was restricted to that of a country 
academy, which did not afford him more than the com- 
monest teaching. He himself, however, supplemented 
this by his eagerness to gain information in any way 
that offered. He read at an early age all the books to 
be found in the village library and in the possession of 
friends ; but outside of books Nature was his teacher. 
Roaming through the woods which surrounded his fa- 
ther's farm, and musing on the banks of rippling streams, 
he caught the melodies of song, the expression of which 
was a necessity to him as long as he lived. Even as early 
as in his eighth year he began to write poetry, and when 
a youth of sixteen he saw his first poem in print. The 
year after, in 1842, he was placed in a printing-office, to 
become a printer — a vocation which he soon left, to sat- 
isfy his desire for travel. It was a true instinct which 
led him to see the world ; he gained by it what he could 
not get in any other way — his university education ; 
and the knowledge he gathered of countries and peoples 



4 BAYARD TAYLOR. 

was so much capital invested in the interest of poetry. 
Each record of travel published by him was followed 
by a volume of poems ; and later in life, when his works 
of travel ceased, and his prose took the form of fiction, 
poetry became more than ever the controUing object of 
interest. 

His first volume of poems, which afterwards he wished 
forgotten, was published in 1844, just before he left the 
printing-office to make his first journey in Europe. It 
is called " Ximena ; or, The Battle of the Sierra Morena, 
and other Poems." The fruit of his two years' wander- 
ings in Europe was '' Views Afoot ; or, Europe seen 
with Knapsack and Staff," succeeded by " Rhymes of 
Travel, Ballads, and Poems," which appeared in 1848, 
shortly after he had settled in New York, and had be- 
come engaged on the staff of the New York " Tribune." 
The following year he made his second journey, as corre- 
spondent for that paper, to California, the newly discov- 
ered gold-mine of the continent. The result was a prose 
volume, " Eldorado ; or, Adventures in the Path of 
Empire," which was soon followed by a new collection of 
Poems, entitled, "A Book of Romances, Lyrics, and 
Songs." When this volume made its appearance, its 
author was already embarked for Egypt and the Orient, 
India and Japan — a series of travels which occupied 
more than two successive years. He returned at the close 
of 1853, and brought back with him material for three 
volumes of prose : "A Journey to Central Africa ; or, 
Life and Landscapes from Egypt to the Negro Kingdoms 
of the Nile ; " '' The Lands of the Saracens ; or, Pictm^es 
of Palestine, Asia Minor, Sicily, and Spain ; " and " A 
Visit to India, China, and Japan in the year 1853." Al- 
most simultaneously with these the '' Poems of the Ori- 
ent " came forth, to be followed by a new collection of the 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 5 

older poems, with the addition of a number of new ones^ 
under the title of " Poems of Home and Travel." The 
summer of 1856 saw him once more in Europe. This 
time he visited Scandinavia, Russia, and Greece, and then 
published, " Northern Travel," and " Travels in Greece 
and Russia, with an Excursion to Crete." " The Poet's 
Journal," which was written not long after (in 1860, al- 
though not published until two years later), was not di- 
rectly connected with these travels ; the poems contained 
in it were rather the healthy reaction from a most unpo- 
etical field of labor into which he had been driven by 
circumstance — the lecturmg business. 

With the completion of " The Poet's Journal" Bayard 
Taylor entered upon a new epoch of his poetical career. 
His travels for the sake of seeing the world and its peo- 
ple were now a thing of the past ; he turned to the de- 
lineation of and the problems projDounded by human 
character in three successive novels, " Hannah Thurs- 
ton," " John Godfrey's Fortunes," and " The Story of 
Kennett," to be followed by a fourth one, " Joseph and 
his Friend," several years later (1870) ; he became also 
absorbed in contemplating the development of the artis- 
tic nature, as set forth in his next volume of poetry, 
" The Picture of St. John," whilst his mind was already 
busy with his great work, the translation of Goethe's 
" Faust." The former appeared in 1866 ; the first vol- 
ume of the latter in 1870, and the second volume in 
1871. Of prose volumes belonging to this period, aside 
from the novels, there are "By-Ways of Europe/* 
sketches written during a two years' stay abroad, and 
" Beauty and the Beast, and Tales of Home," a collec- 
tion of short magazine stories. 

The study entailed by the translation of " Faust " 
must have stimulated the creative power of the poet ; for 



6 BAYARD TAYLOR. 

within the two years following the publication of the 
second part of " Faust," Bayard Taylor produced three 
large poems. Two of them — " The Masque of the 
Gods," and "The Prophet: A Tragedy " — are dra- 
matic in form ; the third, written between these two, is 
" Lars : A Pastoral of Norway." The two latter poems 
he wrote whilst taking a holiday abroad. After return- 
ing home, he published also a volume of all his shorter 
poems hitherto uncollected, which he called " Home 
Pastorals, Ballads, and Lyrics." In 1876 he was called 
upon to write the " National Ode " for the Centennial 
Fourth of July; and shortly before his death, his last 
work of importance — the dramatic poem "Prince Deu- 
kalion " — was issued. 

There are publications of Bayard Taylor's of which 
no mention has been made in tliis brief sketch. They 
are those of minor consideration, which did not seem 
pertinent to our purpose. It is the poet with whom we 
have to deal here, and as a poet we see him not only in 
his poetical works, but also in his books of travel, in his 
novels and tales. From a youth, worshipping devoutly 
at the shrine of Poesy, he grew into the man setting his 
poetic goal higher and higher the more he advanced, 
never flagging in aspiration to the end. He died at 
Berlin, Germany, where he was the representative of the 
United States, on December 19, 1878. 



LARS: 

A PASTORAL OF NORWAY. 



TO 

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 



Through many years my .heart goes back, 

Through checkered years of loss and gain, 
To that fair landmark on its track, 
When first, beside the Merrimack, 
Upon thy cottage roof I heard the autumn rain. 

A hand that welcomed and that cheered 

To one unknown didst thou extend ; 
Thou gavest hope to Song that feared ; 
But now, by Time and Faith endeared, 
I claim the sacred right to call the Poet, Friend ! 

However Life the stream may stain, 

From thy pure fountain drank my youth 
The simple creed, the faith humane 
In Good, that never can be slaio, 
The prayer for inward Light, the search for outward Truth ! 

Like thee, I see at last prevail 

The sleepless soul that looks above ; 
I hear, far off, the hymns that hail 
The Victor, clad in heavenly mail, 
Whose only weapons are the eyes and voice of Love 1 

Take, then, these olive leaves from me. 

To mingle with thy brighter bays ! 
Some balm of peace and purity. 
In them, may faintly breathe of thee ; 
And take the grateful love, wherein I hide thy praise I 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 



The story of " Lars " is an invention of the author, 
as he himself tells us in one of his letters lately pub- 
lished ("Life and Letters of Bayard Taylor," p. 611). 
There is only one little germ of fact, he says in the 
same letter, out of which it grew — the circumstance 
that there is (or was) at Arendal, in Norway, a small 
community of Quakers. 

The idea underlying the poem— the triumph of the 
principle of peace over passion and violence — is embod- 
ied in characters which are in striking contrast to each 
other. On one side they are Quakers, void of external 
attraction, but informed with a spiritual light, lending 
them guidance and safety on the most perilous paths ; on 
the other side Norwegians, picturesque Hke the country 
they inhabit, and inheritors of the surging Norse blood 
of their heathen ancestors. The scenes by which they are 
surrounded the author found ready to his hand. When 
he wrote " Lars," fifteen years had passed since he had 
visited Norway, but the pictures which had then impressed 
him of scenery and people were stored in his capacious 
memory and ready for use ; it was merely necessary 
now to invest them with the nimbus of his poetic art 
Nor was the shifting of the scene to the banks of the 
Delaware and the lovely valley of Hockessin otherwise 
than a most natural reversion for our author, for here 



10 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

he was at home ; he knew every landmark, every mood 
of the changing seasons. 

The story is such a simple one, and told in such a 
straightforward style, that it is fitly called a " Pastoral 
— a term more grassy, cloverly, and homelike" than 
" Idyl," as the author expresses himself to his publisher, 
when writing to him about the title for " Lars " (" Life 
and Letters of Bayard Taylor," p. 617). With the 
slight assistance of the accompanying foot-notes, the 
whole poem will be clear in every particular to any 
reader. It remains only to add the very decided opin- 
ion the author held in regard to the reading of blank 
verse. He expressed himself about it in his paper 
*' Autumn Days in Weimar " (" Critical Essays, and 
Literary Notes "), where he insists that it ought to be 
read by the metrical feet, and not by the punctuation. 
There should be a rest, he says, at the end of each meas- 
ured line — the merest lingering of the tone, by which 
to prevent the verse from lapsing into prose. This di- 
rection of the author of " Lars " will prove itself a valu- 
able assistance to the reader of the poem, in bringing 
forth the full-toned rhythm of its Hnes. 



LARS: 
A PASTORAL OF NORWAY. 



BOOK I. 



On curtained eyes, and bosoms warm with rest, 
On slackened fingers and unburdened feet. 
On limbs securer slumber held from toil, 
While nimble spirits of the busy blood 
5 Renewed their suppleness, yet filled the trance 
With something happy which was less than dream, 
The sun of Sabbath rose. Two hours, afar, 
Behind the wintry peaks of Justedal, 
Unmarked, he climbed ; then, pausing on the crest 
10 Of Fille Fell, he gathered up his beams 

Dissolved in warmer blue, and showered them down 
Between the mountains, through the falling vale, 
On Ulvik's cottages and orchard trees. 
And one by one the chimneys breathed ; the sail 

8. The valley of Justedal, with its mighty glaciers and snowy mountain- 
peaks, is part of the grandest region of Norway. 

10. Fell — a barren and stony hill — is used here instead of the Norwegian 
Fjeld, — one of the characteristic features of Norwegian scenery. The fjelds 
are mountain-plateaus, rising abruptly from their bases. They are bleak and 
desolate, and some of them, as the Jotun Fjeld and the Dovre Fjeld, are cov- 
ered with snow all the year round. The Fille Fjeld is about 3,000 feet above 
the sea, overshadowed by mountains whose wild and barren summits rise to 
the height of 6,000 feet. 

13. Ulvik is a small village, beautifully situated on the water's edge. It is 
inhabited by peasant-farmers, who live in low red houses, studding the green 
hill-sides. The termination vik, common in Norwegian names, corresponds to 
the English cove, and Ulvik is Wolf-cove. 



12 LARS. 

16 That loitered lone along the misty fiord 

Flashed like a star, and filled with fresher wind ; 
The pasturing steers, dispersed on grassy sloj^es, 
Raised heads of wonder over hedge and wall 
To call, unanswered, the belated cows ; 

20 And ears that would not hear, or heard in dreams, 
The lark's alarum over idle fields. 
And lids, still sweetly shut, that else unclosed 
At touch of daybreak, yielded to the day. 

Then, last of all, among the maidens, met 

25 To dip fresh faces in the chilly fount. 

And smoothen braids of sleep-entangled hair, 
Came Brita, glossy as a mating bird. 
No need had she to stoop and wash awake 
Her drowsy senses : air and water kissed 

30 A face as bright and breathing as their own. 
In joy of life and conscious loveliness. 
If still her mirror's picture stayed with her, 
A memory, whispering how the downcast lid 
Shaded the flushing fairness of her cheek, 

36 And hinting how a straying lock relieved 
The rigid fashion of her hair, or how 
The curve of slightly parted lips became 
Half-sad, half-smiling, either meaning much 

15. A Fiord is an arm of the sea, thrust deep into the land ; some of them 
are even a hundred miles long. The fiords are winding and irregular, usually 
shut in by steep precipices and overhanging mountain sides. They are found 
along the whole coast of Norway, except between the capes of Lindesnaes and 
Stavanger. Ulvik lies on an arm of the Hardanger Fiord, the grandest and 
most beautiful of all ; to the east of it is the Hardanger Fjeld, running parallel 
with the coast. 

36. The author of " Lars" in his " Northern Travel " describes a peasant- 
girl of Ulvik thus : " She wore her Sunday dress, consisting of a scarlet bodice 
over a white chemise, green petticoat, and white apron, while her shining 
flaxen hair was plaited into one long braid with narrow strips of crimson and 
yellow cloth and then twisted like a garland around her head." 



LARS. 13 

Or naught, as wilful humor might decide, — 
40 Yet thence was born the grace she could not lose : 
Her beauty, guarded, kept her beautiful. 

" Wilt soon be going, Brita ? " Ragnil asked ; 
" And which the way, — by fiord or over fell ? " 
" Why, both ! " another laughed ; "or else the rocks 

46 Will split and slide beneath the feet of Lars, 
Or Per will meet the Kraken ! " Brita held 
One dark-brown braid between her teeth, and wove 
The silken twine and tassels through its fringe, 
Before she spake ; but first she seemed to sigh : 

60 " I will not choose ; you shall not spoil my day ! 
All paths are free that lead across the fell ; 
All wakes are free to keels upon the fiord, 
And even so my will : come Lars or Per, 
Come Erik, Anders, Harald, Olaf, Nils, 

66 Come saeter-boys, or sailors from the sea. 
No lass is bound to slight a decent lad, 
Or walk behind him when the way is wide." 

" No way is wide enough for three, I 've heard," 
Said Ragnil, " save there be two men that prop 
60 A third, when market 's over." 

" Go your ways ! " 
Then Brita cried : " if two or twelve should come, 
I call them not, nor do I bid them go : 
A friendly word is no betrothal ring." 

Then tossed she back her braids, and with them tossed 
66 Her wilful head. " Why, take you both, or all ! " 

46. Kraken is a name applied to the mythical sea-serpent. 

55. A scEter is a cattle station upon the highland. To this place the cattle 
are driven in summer, and there the women of the farm, with the help of the 
sseter-boys, talie care of the cattle and make butter and cheese. 



14 LARS. 

She said, and left them, adding, " if you can ! " 
With silent lips, nor cared what prudent fears, 
Old-fashioned wisdom, drojjped in parrot-words, 
Chattered behind her as she climbed the lane. 

70 Along her path the unconverted bees 
Set toil to music, and the elder-flowers 
Bent o'er the gate a snowy entrance-arch. 
Where, highest on the slope, her cottage sat. 
Her bed of pinks there yielded to the sun 

75 Its clove and cinnamon odors ; sheltered there 
Beneath the eaves, a rose-tree nursed its buds. 
And through the door, across the dusk within, 
She saw her grandam set the morning broth 
And cut a sweeter loaf. All breathed of j)eace, 

80 Of old, indulgent love, and simple needs, 

Yet Brita sighed, — then blushed because she sighed 

" Dear Lord ! " the ancient dame began, " 't is just 
The day, the sun, the breeze, the smell of flowers, 
As fifty years ago, in Hallingdal, 

85 When I, like thee, picked out my smartest things, 
And put them on, half guessing what would hap, 
And found my luck before I took them off. 
See ! thou shalt wear the brooch, my mother's then, 
And thine when I am gone. Some luck, who knows ? 

-io May still be shining in the fair red stone." 
So, from a box that breathed of musky herbs, 
She took the boss of roughly fashioned gold. 
With garnets studded : took, but gave not yet. 
Some pleasure in the smooth, cool touch of gold, 



84. Hallingdal is a deep mountain valley southeast of the Fille Fjeld. 

92. The gold and silver ornaments of the Norwegian peasantry still pre* 
serve the crude, knobby character of the trinkets made and worn by theil 
semi-barbaric ancestors, the Norsemen. 



LARS. 15 

96 Or wine-red sparkles, flickering o'er the stones, 
Or dream of other fingers, other lips 
That kissed them for the bed they rocked upon 
That happy summer eve in Hallingdal, 
Gave her slow heart its girlhood's pulse again, 
100 Her cheek one last leaf of its virgin rose. 

Oh, foolishness of age ! She dared not say 
What then she felt : Go, child, enjoy the bliss 
Of innocent woman, ripe for need of man. 
And needing him no less ! Some natural art 

106 Will guide thy guileless fancies, some pure voice 
Will whisper truth, and lead thee to thy fate ! 
But, ruled by ancient habit, counselled thus : 
" Be on thy guard, my Brita ! men are light 
Of tongue, and unto faces such as thine 

110 Mean not the half they say : the girl is prized 
Who understands their ways, and holds them off 
Till he shall come who, facing her, as she 
And death were one, pleads for his life with her : 
When such an one thou meetest, thou wilt know." 

116 " Nay, grandam ! " Brita said : "I will not hear 
A voice so dreadful-earnest : I am young, 
And I can give and take, not meaning much, 
Nor over-anxious to seem death to men : 
I like them all, and they are good to me. 

120 I '11 wear thy brooch, and may it bring me luck, 
Not such as thine was, as I guess it was. 
But, in the kirk, short sermon, cheerful hymn, 

122. Kirk is a Scotch word for church (in German Kirche). The Norwegians 
are mostly Lutherans. It is the custom in Norway, as everywhere on the con- 
tinent of Europe, to go to church in the morning, and to spend the remainder 
of the day in merry-making, which among the young people of the lower 
usually ends with a dance. 



16 LARS. 

Good neighbors on the way, and for the dance 
A light-foot partner ! " With a rippHng laugh 

126 That brushed the surface of her heart, and hid 
Whatever doubt its quiet had betrayed, 
She kissed the withered cheek, and on her breast 
Pinned the rough golden boss with wine-red stones. 
" Come, Brita, come ! " rang o'er the elder-flowers : 

130 " I come 1 " she answered, threw her fleeting face 
Upon the little mirror, took her bunch 
Of feathered pinks, and joined the lively group 
Of Sundayed lads and lasses in the lane. 

They set themselves to climb the stubborn fell 

135 By stony stairs that left the fields below. 
And ceased, far up, against the nearer blue. 
But lightly sprang the maids ; and where the slides 
Of ice ground smooth the slanting planes of rock, 
Strong arms drew up and firm feet steadied theirs. 

140 Here lent the juniper a prickly hand. 

And there they grasped the heather's frowsy hair, 
While jest and banter made the giddy verge 
Secure as orchard-turf ; and none but showed 
The falcon's eye that guides the hunter's foot, 

146 Till o'er their flushed and breathless faces struck 
The colder ether ; on the crest they stood. 
And sheltered vale and ever-winding fiord 
Sank into gulfs of shadow, while afar 
To eastward many a gleaming tooth of snow 

160 Cut the full round of sky. 

" Why, look you, now ! " 
Cried one : " the fiord is bare as threshing-floor 

134. The churches are often far apart, and diflacult to reach. The Norwe- 
gians are earnest church-goers, climbing the f jelds, and braving the waves foi 
long distances and in all weathers, to attend divine service. 



LARS. IT 

When winter 's over : what 's become of Per ? " 

" And what of Lars ? " asked Ragnil, with a glance 

At Brita's careless face ; " can he have climbed 

155 The Evil Pass, and crossed the thundering foss, 
His nearest way ? " As clear as blast of horn 
There came a cry, and on the comb beyond 
They saw the sparkle of a scarlet vest. 
Then, like the echo of a blast of horn, 

160 A moment later, fainter and subdued, 
A second cry ; and far to left appeared 
A form that climbed and leaped, and nearer strove. 
And Harald, Anders Ericssen, and Nils 
Set their three voices to accordant pitch 

165 And shouted one wild call athwart the blue, 
Until it seemed to quiver : as they ceased 
The maids began, and, moving onward, gave 
Strong music : all the barren summits rang. 

So from the shouts and girlish voices grew 

170 The wayward chorus of a sseter-song, 
Such as around the base of Skagtolstind 
The chant of summer-jotun seems, when all 
The herds are resting and the herdsmen meet ; 
And while it swept with swelling, sinking waves 

175 The crags and ledges, Lars had joined the band. 
And from the left came Per ; and Brita walked 
Between them where the path was broad, but when 
It narrowed to such track as tread the sheep 

155. Foss is a waterfall. Norway abounds in cataracts, some of which are 
the finest and grandest in the world. 

171. The Skagtolstind rises 7,8G0 feet above the sea-level, and thus is the 
highest mountain in Norway. It is to the north of the Fille Fjeld. 

172. J'dtuns are the giants of the Northern mythology, corresponding to the 
Titans of the Greeks. They represent the elements and the forces of nature, 
and therefore we read of fire-giants, sea-giants, air-giants, frost-giants, forest- 
giants, etc. 

9 



18 LARS. 

Round slanting shoulder and o'er rocky spur 
180 To reach the rare, sweet herbage, one went close 
Before her, one behind, and unto both 
With equal cheer and equal kindliness 
Her speech was given : so both were glad of heart. 

^ A herdsman, woodman, hunter, Lars was strong, 

185 Yet silent from his life upon the hills. 

Beneath dark lashes gleamed his darker eyes 
Like mountain-tarns that take their changeless hue 
From shadows of the pine : in all his ways 
He showed that quiet of the upper world 

190 A breath can turn to tempest, and the force 
Of rooted firs that slowly split the stone. 
But Per was gay with laughter of the seas 
Which were his home : the billow breaking blue 
On the Norv/egian skerries flashed again 

195 Within his sunbright eyes ; and in his tongue, 
Set to the louder, merrier key it learned 
In hum of rigging, roar of wind and tide, 
The rhythm of ocean and its wilful change 
Allured all hearts as ocean lures the land. 

200 Now which, this daybreak with his yellow locks, 
Or yonder twilight, calm, mysterious, filled 
With promise of its stars, shall turn the mind 
Of the light maiden who is neither fain 
To win nor lose, since, were the other not, 

20B Then each were welcome ? — how should maid de- 
cide ? 



187. Tarn, the Scotch word for a small lake on high land. 

194. The coast of Norway, with but few breaks, is lined with more or leae 
precipitous rocks, through which the sea has eaten its way in the fiords. A 
chain of skerries, or insulated rocks, follows the coast-line wherever the /tor«f» 
exist. 



LARS. 19 

For that the passion of the twain was marked, 
And haply envied, and a watch was set, 
She would be strong : and, knowing, seem as though 
She nothing knew, until occasion came 
210 To bid her choose, or teach her how to choose. 

On each and all the soberness of morn 
Yet lay, the weight of hard reality 
That even clogs the callow wings of love ; 
And now descending, where the broader vale 

215 Showed farm on farm, and groves of birch and oak, 
And fields that shifted gloss like shimmering silk. 
The kirk-bells called them through the mellow air, 
Slow-swinging, till, as from a censer's cup 
The smoke diffused makes all the minster sweet, 

220 The peace they chimed pervaded earth and sky. 
As under foliage of the lower land 
The pathway led, more harmless fell the jest, 
The laugh less frequent : then the maidens drew 
Apart, set smooth their braids, their kirtles shook, 

226 And grave, decorous as a troop of nuns, 
Entered the little town. Ragnil alone 
And Anders Ericssen together walked. 
For twice already had their banns been called. 
Lars shot one glance at Brita, as to say : 

230 " Were thou and I thus promised, side by side ! " 
Then looked away ; but Per, who kept as near 
As decent custom let, all softly sang : 

219. Minster is another term for a cathedral. 

224. Although a kirtle may be either the short jacket worn by the peasants, 
or the upper skirt attached to it, the word here evidently is applied only to the 
latter. 

225. Read deco'rous. 

228. The banns are the proclamation, in a church, of intended marriage. In 
the Lutheran church the banns must be called during the service on three suc- 
cessive Sundays. 



20 LARS. 

" Forget me thou, I shall remember still I " 
That she might hear him, and so not forget. 
235 Thus onward to the gray old kirk they moved. 

The bells had ceased to chime : the hush within 
With holy shuddering from the organ-bass 
Was filled, and when it died the prayer arose. 
Then came another stillness, as the Lord 

240 Were near, or bent to listen from afar, 

And last the text ; but Brita found it strange. 
Thus read the pastor : " Set me as a seal 
Upon thy heart, yea, set me as a seal 
Upon thine arm ; for love is strong as death, 

246 And jealousy is cruel as the grave." 

She felt the garnets burn upon her breast, 
As if all fervor of the olden love 
Still heated them, and fire of jealousy, 
And to herself she thought : " Has any face 

250 Looked on me with a love as strong as death ? 
But I am Life, and how am I to know ? " 
Then, straightway weary of the puzzle, she 
Began to wander with her dancing thoughts 
Out o'er the fell, and up and down the slopes 

266 Of sunny grass, while ever and anon 

The preacher's solemn voice struck through her 

dream. 
Its sound a menace and its sense unknown. 
Then she was sad, and vexed that she was sad, 
And vexed with them who only could have caused 

260 Her sadness : " Grandam's luck, forsooth ! " she 
thought : 
" If one were luck, why, two by rights were more, 
But two a plague, a lesser plague were one, 
And not a fortune ! " So, till service ceased, 



LARS, 21 

And all arose when benediction came, 
265 She mused with j)ettish thrust of under lip, 
Nor met the yearning eyes of Lars and Per. 

The day's grave duty done, forth issued all, 
Foregathering with the Vossevangen youth, 
The girls of Graven and the boys of Vik, 

270 Where under elms before the guest-house front 
Stood tables brown with age : already bore 
The host his double-handed bunch of cans 
Fresh-filled and foaming ; and the cry of Skaal I 
Mixed with the clashing kiss of glassy lips. 

275 But when in gown of black the pastor came, 
All rose, respectful, waiting for his words. 
A pace in front stood Anders Ericssen, 
Undignified in bridegroom dignity. 
Because too conscious : Ragnil blushed with shame, 

280 And all the maidens envied her the shame. 

When reverend fingers tapped her cheek, and he, 
That good man, said : "How fares my bonny bride? 
She must not be the last this summer ; look, 
My merry lads, what harvest waits for you ! " 

285 And on the maidens turned his twinkling eyes. 
That beamed a blessing with the playful words. 

Then Lars slii3ped nearer Brita, where she stood 
Withdrawn a little, underneath the trees. 
"You heard the pastor," said he ; " would you next 
290 Put on the crown .'' not you the harvest, nay, 

269. Vossevangen, Graven, and Vik are small villages lying not far apart, 
near the head of the Hardanger Fiord. The former boasts of a massive old 
church with pointed tower. 

270. The guest-house is a public house — the tavern where the people gather 
after the morning service. 

273. " Skaal .' " (pronounced skoal) is eauivalent to " hail ! " or "health ! " 

290. The Norwegian peasant-girl on her wedding-day wears a silver crown 

which is preserved in the family and handed down from mother to daughter. 



22 LARS. 

The reaper, rather ; and the grain is ripe." 
" A field," she answered, " may be ripe enough 
When half the heads are empty, and the "stalks 
Are choked with cockle. I 've no mind to reap. 

296 Indeed, I know not what you mean : the speech 
The pastor uses suits not you nor me." 
She meant reproof, yet made reproof so sweet 
By feigned impatience, which betrayed itself. 
That Lars bent lower, murmured with quick breath 

soo " Oh, take my meaning, Brita ! Give me one, — 
But one small word to say that you are kind, 
But one kind word to tell me you are free. 
And I not wholly hateful ! " " Lars ! " she cried, 
Her frank, sweet sympathy aroused, " not so ! 

305 As friendly-kind as I can be, I am. 

But free of you, and all ; and that 's enough ! 
You men would walk across the growing grain, 
And tramjDle it because it is not ripe 
Before the harvest." Thereupon she smiled, 

310 Sent him one dewy glance that should have been 
Defiant, but a promise seemed ; then turned. 
And hastening, almost brushed the breast of Per. 
He caught her by the hands, that Viking's son. 
Whose fathers wore the eagle-helm, and stood 

315 With Frithiof at the court of Angantyr, 

313. The Vikings were originally sea-robbers. The name is derived from 
vik (a cove or bay), where they hid their ships, or sea-dragons, as they were 
called, from the shape of the prow. They were powerfully built, hardy, and 
fearless, combining the vices and the virtues of the half-barbaric warrior. 
During the ninth and tenth centuries they gained great power by extending 
their piratical voyages, and conquering sonae of the fairest provinces of ancient 
Europe. In this way they obtained possession of Normandy, and were known 
in history as the Normans. Their helmets were adorned with eagles' or sea- 
gulls' wings. 

315. Frithiof the Brave is a mythical Scandinavian hero, the ''■saga "or 
story of whose deeds was first written in Icelandic in the fourteenth century; 
in our day, the Swedish Bishop Esaias Tegu^r rendered the " Frithiof 's Sajra* 



LARS. 23 

Or followed fair-haired Harald to the East, 
Though fishing now but herring, cod, and bass. 
Not men and merchant-galleys : he was red 
With mead, no less than sun and briny air : 

320 He caught her by the hands, and said, as one 
Who gives command and means to be obeyed i 
'^ You '11 go to Ulvik, Brita, by the fiord ! 
Bjorn brings my boat ; the wind is off the sea, 
But light as from a Bergen lady's fan : 

325 Say, then, you '11 go ! " 

The will within his words 
Struck Brita harshly. For a moment she 
Pondered refusal, then, with brightening face 
Turned suddenly, and cried to all the rest : 
" How fine of Per ! we need not climb the fell : 

330 He '11 bear us all to Ulvik by the fiord ; 

Bjorn brings his boat ; the wind is off the sea ! " 
And all the rest, with roaring skaal to Per, 
Struck hands upon the offer ; only he 
For plan so friendly showed a face too grim. 

335 He set his teeth and muttered : " Caught this time, 
But she shall pay it !." till his discontent 
Passed, like a sudden squall that tears the sea, 
Yet leaves ia, sun to smile the billows down. 
His jovial nature, bred to change, was swayed 

famous by making it the theme of his verse. His poem tells us how Frithiof 
was sent by King Helge to Angantyr, Earl of the Orkneys ; how he went, 
and what new splendor he beheld at the court of this ruler. 

316. Harald III., surnamed Hardraade, King of Norway 1047-1067. Before 
his accession to the throne he spent many years in the East, and was captain 
of the body-guard of the Greek Emperor at Constantinople. 

318. A galley is a low, flat vessel, propelled by sails and oars. 

319. Mead, the favorite and almost the sole drink of the ancient northern 
races, is made of honey and water, boiled and fermented. 

324. One of the principal cities of Norway is Bergen, situated on two capes, 
the projecting spurs of a high mountain, which rise steeply from the water, 
leaving a narrow, almost land-locked harbor. 



24 LARS, 

340 By the swift consequence of Brita's whim, 
The grasp of hand, the clap of shoulder, clink 
Of brimming glass, and whispers overheard 
Of " Luck to Per, and Bjorn, and all the boys 
That reap, but sow not, on the rolling fields ! " 

345 And Brita, too, no sooner punished him 
Than she relented, and would fain ajipease ; 
Whence, fluttering to and fro, she kept the plan 
Alive, yet made its kindness wholly Per's : 
Only, when earnestly to Lars she said : 

350 " You '11 go with us ? " he answered sullenly : 
" I will not go : my way is o 'er the fell." 

He did not quit them till they reached the strand, 
And on the stern-deck and the prow was piled 
The bright, warm freight ; then chose a dangerous 
path, 

355 A rocky ladder slanting up the crags, 
And far aloft ujDon a foreland took 
His seat, with chin upon his clenching hands, 
To watch and muse, in love and hate, alone. 
But they slid off upon a wind that filled 

360 The sail, yet scarcely heeled the boat a-lee ; 
They seemed to rest above a hanging sky 
'Twixt shores that went and shores that slowly came 
In silence, and the larger shadows fell 
From heaven-high walls, a darker clearness in 

365 The air above, the firmament below, 

Crossed by the sparkling creases of the sea. 
Bjorn at the helm and Per to watch the wind, 
They scarcely sailed, but soared as eagle soars 
O'er Gousta's lonely peak with moveless plumes, 

369. The pyramidal peak of the Gousta rises 2,000 feet above a conical 
Vu.ountaiu platform more than 4,000 feet high. It is in the province of Telle- 



LARS. 25 

370 That, level-set, cut the blue planes of air ; 
And out of stillness rose that sunset hymn 
Of Sicily, the sanctissima ! 
That swells and fluctuates like a sleepy wave. 
Thus they swam on to where the fiord is curved 

376 Around the cape, where through a southward cleft 
Some wicked sprite sends down his elfish flaws. 
So now it chanced : the vessel sprang, and leaned 
Before the sudden strain; but Per and Bjorn 
Held the hard bit upon their flying steed, 

380 And laughing, sang : " Out on the billows blue 
You needs must dance, and on the billows blue 
You sleep, a babe, rocked by the billows blue ! " 
As suddenly the gust was over : then 
Found Per a seat by Brita. " Did you fear ? " 

385 He said ; and she : " Who fears that sails with Per ? " 
" Nay then," he whispered, " never fear me more, 
As twice to-day : why give me all this freight, 
When so much less were so much more to me ? " 
" Since when were maidens free as fishermen ? 

390 Not since the days of Brynhild, I beUeve ; " 
She answered, sharply : "I was fain to sail, 
And place for me meant place for more beside." 
" Not in my heart," he said ; "it holds and keeps 

mark in Southern Norway, and near it is the famous Riukan Foss, the " king 
of European waterfalls." 

372. The poet here refers to the old Latin hymn sung by the people of South- 
em Italy every evening at sunset before the shrine of the Virgin : — 
" O sanctissima, 

O piissima, 

Dulcis Virgo Maria ! 

Mater amata, 

Intemerata, 

Ora, ora pro nobis ! " 
390. Brynhild was one of the walkyries, or battle maidens of the Scandinavian 
mythology, who carried those slain in combat on their winged horses to the 
joys of the Norse heaven, Walhalla. Brita probably thought of the age when 
women often shared with their husbands, or fathers, all the dangers and the 
heroism of barbaric warfare. 



26 LARS. 

Thee only ; thou canst not escape my love ; " 

396 And tried to take her hand : she bending o'er 
The low, black bulwarks, saw a crimson spark 
Drop on the surface of the pale-green wave, 
And sink, surrounded by a golden gleam. 
" Oh, grandam's brooch ! " she cried, and started up, 

400 Sat down again, and hid her face, and wept. 
Some there lamented as the loss were theirs, 
Some shook their heads in ominous dismay. 
But all agreed that, save a fish should bring 
The jewel in its maw (and tales declared 

405 The thing once happened), none would see it more. 
Said Guda Halstensdatter : "I should fear 
An evil, had I lost it." Thorkil cried : 
" Be silent, Guda ! Loss is grief enough 
For Brita : would you frighten her as well ? 

410 There 's many think that jewels go and come, 
Having some life or virtue of their own 
That drives them from us or that brings them back. 
'Twas so with my great-grandam's wedding-ring." 

" Now, how was that ? " all asked ; and Thorkil spake ; 

415 " Why, not a year had she been wedded, when 
The ring was gone : how, where, a mystery. 
It was a bitter grief, but nothing haj^ped 
Save losses, ups and downs, that came to all : 
Both took their lot in patience and in hope, 

420 And worked the harder when the luck was least. 
So from the moorland and the stony brake 
They won fresh fields ; and now, when came around 
The thirteenth harvest, and the grain was ripe 
On that new land, my grandsire, then a boy, 

426 One morn came leaping, shouting, from the field. 
High in his hand he held a stalk of wheat. 



LARS. . 27 

And round the ripened ear, between the beards, 
Hung, like a miracle, the wedding-ring ! 
And father heard great-grandam say it shone 

430 So wonderful, she dropped upon her knees ; 

She thought God's finger touched it, giving back. 
Who knows what fish may pounce on Brita's brooch 
Before it reach the bottom of the fiord. 
And then, what fisher net the fish ? " Some there 

435 Began to smile at this, and Per's blue eyes 
Danced with a cheerful light, as, in the cove 
Of Ulvik entered, fell his sagging sail. 
No more spake Brita ; homeward up the hill 
She walked alone, sobbing with grief and dread. 

440 The world goes round : the sun sets on despair, 
The morrow makes it hope. Each little life 
Thinks the great axle of the universe 
Turns on its fate, and finds impertinence 
In joy or grief conflicting with its own. 

446 Yet fate is woven from unnoted threads ; 
Each life is centred in the life of all. 
And from the meanest root some fibre runs 
Which chance or destiny may intertwine 
With those that feed a force or guiding thought, 

460 To rule the world : so goes the world around. 

And Brita's loss, that made all things seem dark, 
Was soon outgrieved : came Anders' wedding-day 
And Ragnil's, and the overshining joy 
Of these two hearts from others drove the shade. 
485 Forth from her home the ruddy bride advanced, 
Not fair, but made so by her bridal bliss. 
The tall crown on her brow, and in her hand 
The bursting nosegay : Anders, washed and sleeked, 



28 LARS. 

With ribbons on his hat, from head to foot 

460 Conscious of all he wore, each word he spake, 
And every action for the day prescribed, 
Stuck to her side. It was a trying time ; 
But when the strange truth was declared at last 
That they were man and wife, so greeted with 

465 The cries of flute and fiddle, crack of guns. 
And tossing of the blossom-brightened hats, 
They breathed more freely ; and the guests were 

glad 
That this was over, since the festival 
Might now begin, and mirth be lord of all. 

470 In Ragnil's father. Halfdan's home, the casks 
Of mead were tapped, the Dantzig brandy served 
In small old glasses, and the platters broad. 
Heaped high with salmon, cheese, and caviar, 
Temjited and soothed before the heavier meal. 

475 No guest in duty failed ; and Per began — 
The liquor's sting, the day's infection warm 
Upon his blood — to fix his sweetheart's word, 
Before some wind should blow it otherwhere. 
" Your hand, my Brita," stretching his, — " your hand 

480 For all the dances : see, my heels are light ! 
I have a right to ask you for amends. 
But ask it as a kindness." "Nay," she said, 
" You have no right ; but I will dance one dance 
With you, as any other." " Will you then ? " 

48B He cried, and caught her sharply by the wrist: 



469. Ill most parts of Norway a wedding lasts for three or four days. There 
are numerous guests, who enjoy themselves in feasting and drinking, and the 
end of it all frequently is a bloody fight. 

473. Caviar is the name of an article of food made, principally in Russia, 
from the salted roe of the sturgeon. It is the custom in Scandinavia, as well 
as in Russia, to preface the dinner by an appetizer — a smorgas (butter-goose) 
— consisting of the piquant dishes just mentioned. 



LARS. 29 

"I '11 not be ' any other,' do you hear? 
I '11 be the one, the only one, whose foot 
Keeps time with yours, my heart the tune thereto ! " 
Then shouting comrades whirled him from her 
side, 

490 And Ragnil called the maids, to show her stores 
Of fine-spun linen, lavendered and cool 
In nutwood chests, her bed and canopy 
Painted with pictures of the King and Queen, 
And texts from Scripture, o'er the pillows curled 

495 Where she and Anders should that night repose. 
They shut the door to keep the lads without. 
Then shyly stole away ; and Brita found 
Alone, among the garden bushes, Lars. 

His eyes enlarged and brightened as she came ; 

BOO He said, in tones whose heartful sweetness made 
Her pulses thrill : "I will not bind you yet : 
Dance only first with me that saeter-dance 
You learned on Graafell : Nils will play the air. 
Then take your freedom, favor whom you will. 

606 I shall not doubt you, now and evermore." 
" But, Lars " — she said, then paused ; he would not 
wait, 
The mirthful guests drew near. " I '11 keep you, 

then," 
He whispered, " till I needs must let you go. 
This much will warm me on the windy fells, 

510 Make sunshine of the mists, melt frost in dew. 
And paint the rocks with roses." Could she turn 
From that brave face, those calm, confiding eyes ? 
Could she, in others' sight, reject the hand 
Now leading to the board ? If so, too late 

618 Decision came, for she had followed him, 



30 LARS. 

And sat beside him when the horns of mead 
Made their slow pilgrimage from mouth to mouth, 
And while the stacks of bread sank low, the haunch 
Of stall-fed ox diminished to the bone, 

620 Till multeberries, Bergen gingerbread, 

With wine of Spain, made daintier end of all. 
Then, like a congress of the blackbirds, held 
In ancient tree-tops on October eves. 
The tables rang and clattered ; but, erelong, 

626 Brisk hands had stripjDed them bare, and, turning 
down 
The leaves, made high-backed settles by the wall. 

Through all the bustle and the din were heard 

The fiddle-strings of Nils, as one by one 

They chirped and squeaked in dolorous complaint, 

630 Until the bent ear and the testing bow 

Found them accordant : then a flourish came 
That scampered up and down the scale, and lapsed 
In one long note that hovered like a bird. 
Uncertain where to light ; but so not long : 

636 It darted soon, a lark above the fells, 

And spun in eddying measures. Here a pair, 
And there another, took the vacant floor, 
Then Lars and Brita, sweeping in the dance 
That whirled and paused, as if a mountain gust 

640 Blew them together, tossed, and tore apart. 
And ever, when the wild refrain came round, 
Lars flung himself and sidewards turned in air, 
Yet missed no beat of music when he fell. 



516. In ancient times the horns of the bull were used as drinking-vessels : 
hence the term is still applied to a drinking-cup. 

520. Multeberries (Rubus chamsemorus) grow in abundance on the rocky 
Hardanger Fjeld. 



LARS. 31 

" By holy Olaf ! " gray-haired Half dan qried : 
146 " There 's not a trick we knew in good old days, 
But he has caught it : so I danced myself." 

Upon the sweeping circles entered Per, 
Held back, at first, and partially controlled 
By them who saw the current of his wrath, 

B60 And whitherward it set ; but now, when slacked 
The fiery pulses of the dance, he broke 
Through all, and rudely thrust himself on Lars. 
" Your place belongs to me," he hoarsely cried, — 
" Your place and partner ! " " Brita 's free to choose," 

655 Said Lars, '' and may be bidden ; but this floor 
Is not your deck, nor are you captain mine : 
I think your throat has made your head forget." 
Lars spake the truth that most exasperates : 
His words were oil on flame, and Per resolved, 

660 So swayed by reckless anger, to defy 

Then, once, and wholly. '' Deck or not," said he, 
" You know what right I mean : you stand where I 
Allow you not : I warn you off the field ! " 
Lars turned to Brita : " Does he speak for you ? " 

565 She shook her head, but what with shame and fear 
Said nothing. " We have danced our sseter-dance," 
He further spake, " and now I go : when next 
We meet at feast, I claim another such." 
" Aye, claim it, claun ! " Per shouted ; " but you '11 first 

570 Try knives with me, for blood shall run between 
Your words and will : where you go, I shall be." 
" So be it : bid your mother bring your shroud ! " 
Lars answered ; and he left the marriage house. 

544. Qlaf was the first Christian King of Scandinavia. He lived about A. D. 
1000, and was sainted by the Church of Rome as the Apostle of Christianity in 
the North. 

572. It was the custom formerly for wives to take a shroud along to a wed- 



32 LARS. 

The folk of Ulvik knew, from many a tale 

576 Of feud and fight, from still transmitted hates 
And old Berserker madness in their blood, 
What issue hung : but whoso came between 
Marked that the mediation dwelt with her 
Who stood between : if she would choose, why, then 

B80 The lover foiled forsooth must leave in peace 
The lover favored, — further strife were vain. 
But Lars was far upon the windy heights, 
And Per beyond the skerries on the sea. 
And Ragnil bustling busy as a Avife, 

688 That might have helped ; while those to Brita came, 
More meddlesome than kind, who hurt each nerve 
They touched for healing. What could she, but cry 
In tears and anger : " Shall I seek them out, 
Bestow myself on one, take pride for love, 

690 And forfeit thus all later pride in me ? 
Rather refuse them both, and on myself 
Turn hate of both : their knives, i' faith ! were dull 
Beside your cutting tongues ! " She vowed, indeed, 
In moonlit midnights, when she could not sleep, 

696 And either window framed a rival face. 

That seemed to wait, with set, reproachful eyes, 
To smile on neither, hold apart and off 
Their fatal kindness. She repel, that drew ? 
As if an oi3en rose could will away 
Its hue and scent, a lily arm its stem 

600 With thorns, a daisy turn against the sun ! 

ding-feast, since it was uncertain whether their husbands would come away 
alive. 

576. Berserker (from 6er, bare or naked, and serkr, a breast-plate) was the 
name of a Scandinavian mythical hero. Contrary to the custom of the age, he 
went unarmed into battle ; the want of lielmet and shield was supplied by a 
mad rage which took possession of him while %htiug. Thence his descendants 
were called Berserkers. They inherited his fury in combat ; and later the 
blind, unreasoning rage of fight was called after him Berserker madness. 



LARS. 33 

The fields were reaped ; the longer shadows thrown 
From high Hardanger and the eastern range 
Began to chill the vales : it was the time 
When on the meadow by the lonely lake 

60B Of Graven, from the regions round about 

The young men met to hold their wrestling-match, 
As since the days of Olaf they had done. 
There, too, the maids came and the older folk, 
Delighting in the grip of strength and skill, 

610 The strain of sinew, stubbornness of joint. 
And urge of meeting muscles. All the place 
Was thronged, and loud the cheers and laughter rang 
When some old champion from a rival vale 
Bent before fresher arms, and from his base 

615 Wrenched ere he knew, fell heavily to earth. 
Until the sun across the fir-trees laid 
His lines of level gold, they watched the bouts ; 
Then strayed by twos and threes toward the sound 
Of wassail in the houses and the booths. 

620 And Brita with her Ulvik gossips went. 
Once only, when a Laerdal giant brought 
Sore grief upon the men of Vik, she saw 
Or seemed to see, beyond the stormy ring. 
The shape of Lars ; but, scarce disquieted 

625 If it were he, or if the twain were there, 

(Since blood, she thought, must surely cool in time,) 
She followed to the house upon the knoll 
Where ever came and went, like bees about 
Their hive's low doorway, groups of merry folk. 

630 A mellow dusk already filled the room ; 

The chairs were pushed aside, and on the stove, 

619. Wassail — an old English, word for carousing. 
621. Lcerdal is situated in t'ae neighborhood of the Fille Fjeld. 
3 



34 LARS. 

As on a throne of painted clay, sat Nils. 

Behold ! Lars waited there ; and as she reached 

The inner circle round the dancing-floor 
635 He moved to meet her, and began to say 
" Thanks for the last " — when from the other side 

Strode Per. 

The two before her, face to tace 

Stared at each other : Brita looked at them. 

All three were pale ; and she, with faintest voice, 
640 Remembering counsel of the tongues unkind, 

Could only breathe : " I know not how to choose." 
"No need ! " said Lars: "I choose for you," said Per, 

Then both drew off and threw aside their coats, 

Their broidered waistcoats, and the silken scarves 
646 About their necks ; but Per grow^led " All ! " and 
made 

His body bare to where the leathern belt 

Is clasped between the breast-bone and the hip. 

Lars did the same ; then, setting tight the belts, 

Both turned a little : the low daylight clad 
660 Their forms with awful fairness, beauty now 

Of life, so warm and ripe and glorious, yet 

So near the beauty terrible of Death. 

All saw the mutual sign, and understood ; 

And two stepped forth, two men with grizzled hair 
666 And earnest faces, grasped the hooks of steel 

In cither's belt, and drew them breast to breast, 

And in the belts made fast each other's hooks. 

An utter stillness on the people fell 

632. Stoves in the north of Europe are huge structures of tiles, which give 
out a moderate but constant warmth, and therefore afford a secure and com- 
fortable seat for the musician. 

636. According to a peculiarly polite custom prevalent in the Scandinavian 
peninsula, Lars, before asking Brita for a dance, thanks her for the last on« 
she gave him. 



LARS. 35 

While this was done : each face was stern and 
strange, 
560 And Brita, powerless to turn her eyes, 

Heard herself cry, and started : " Per, O Per ! " 

When those two backward stepped, all saw the flash 

Of knives, the lift of arms, the instant clench 

Of hands that held and hands that strove to strike : 

665 All heard the sound of quick and hard-drawn breath, 
And naught beside ; but sudden red appeared. 
Splashed on the white of shoulders and of arms. 
Then, thighs entwined, and all the body's force 
Called to the mixed resistance and 9-ssault, 

670 They reeled and swayed, let go the guarding clutch, 
And struck out madly. Per drew back, and aimed 
A deadly blow, but Lars embraced him close. 
Reached o'er his shoulder and from underneath 
Thrust upward, while upon his ribs the knife, 

676 Glancing, transfixed the arm. A gasp was heard : 
The struggling limbs relaxed ; and both, still bound 
Together, fell upon the bloody floor. 

Some forward sprang, and loosed, and lifted them 
A little ; but the head of Per hung back, 

680 With lips apart and dim blue eyes unshut, 
And all the passion and the pain were gone 
Forever. "Dead I " a voice exclaimed ; then she, 
Like one who stands in darkness, till a blaze 
Of blinding lightning paints the whole broad world, 

685 Saw, burst her stony trance, and with a cry 
Of love and grief and horror, threw herself 
Upon his breast, and kissed his passive mouth, 
And loud lamented : " Oh, too late I know 
I love thee best, my Per, my sweetheart Per ! 



86 LARS. 

890 Thy will was strong, thy ways were masterful ; 
I did not guess that love might so command ! 
Thou wert my ruler : I resisted thee, 
But blindly. Oh, come back ! — I will obey." 

Within the breast of Lars the heart beat on, 

695 Yet faintly, as a wheel more slowly turns 

When summer drouth has made the streamlet thin. 
They staunched the gushing life ; they raised him up, 
And sense came back and cleared his clouded eye 
At Brita's voice. He tried to stretch his hands : 

700 '' Where art thou, Brita? It is time to choose : 
Take what is left of him or me ! " He paused : 
She did not answer. Stronger came his voice ; 
" I think that I shall live : forget all this ! 
'T was not my doing, shall not be again, 

705 If only thou wilt love me as I love." 
'" I love thee ? " Brita cried ; "who murderest him 
I loved indeed ! Why should I wish thee life, 
Except to show thee I can hate instead ? " 
A groan so deep, so desperate and sad 

710 Came from his throat, that men might envy him 
Who lay so silent ; then they bore him forth. 
While others smoothed the comely limbs of Per. 
His mother, next, unrolled the decent shroud 
She brought with her, as ancient custom bade, 

716 To do him honor ; for man's death he died. 
Not shameful straw-death of the sick and old. 

716. The mythology of the Norsemen made it a disgrace to die the straw- 
death, — that is, death on a bed, which was usually of straw, — rather than a 
bloody death on the field of battle ; for only those who were slain in fight 
were admitted to the joys of the gods. 



BOOK n. 

Lars lived, because the life within his frame 
Refused to leave it ; but his heart was dead, 
He thought, for nothing moved him any more. 
He spake not Brita's name, and every path 
5 Where he had scattered fancies of the maid 
Like seeds of flowers, but whence, instead, had growr 
Malignant briers, to clog and tear his feet, 
Was hated now : so, all that once seemed life, 
So bright with power and purpose, rich in chance, 
10 And dropping rest from every cloud of toil. 
Became a weariness of empty days. 

Thus, not to 'scape the blood-revenge for Per 
Which Thorsten vowed, his brother ; not to shun 
The tongues and eyes of censure or reproach, 

15 Or spoken pity, angering more than these ; 
But since each rock upon the lonely fell 
Kept echoes of her voice, each cleft of blue 
Where valleys wandered downward to the wave 
Held shadows of her form, each meadow-sod 

20 Her footprints, — all the land so filled with her, 



12. There is a reference to Blood-revenge in tlie " still-transmitted hates," 
line 575 (page 32). This fearful custom, of shedding blood for blood, which 
Christianity has never been able to suppress in some mountainous districts of 
Europe, is based on the belief that a violent death must be wiped out by the 
blood of the slayer. It is the sacred duty of the next male relation of the slain 
to kill his murderer, whose death is again avenged by a relative. In this pri- 
vate warfare whole families have been exterminated in different countries. 



88 LARS. 

Once hope, delight, hut desolation now, — 
Forth must he go, heyond his father's hearth, 
Beyond the vales, beyond the teeth of snow. 
The shores and skerries, till the world become 
26 Too wide for knowledge of his evil fate. 
Too strange for memory of his ruined love ! 

He recked not where ; but into passive moods 
Some spirit drops a leaven, to point anew 
Men's aimless forces. Was it only chance 

30 That now recalled a long-forgotten tale ? 

How Leif, his mother's grandsire, crossed the seas 
To those new lands the great Gustavus claimed : 
How, in The Key of old Calmkr, their ship, 
A trooper he, with Printz the Governor, 

36 Sailed days and weeks ; the blue would never turn 
To shallower green, and landsmen moped in dread, 
Till shores grew up they scarce believed were such, 
Low-lying, fresh, as if the hand of God 
Had lately finished them. But farther on 

40 The curving bay to one broad river led. 
Where cabins nestled on the rising banks. 
With mighty woods, and mellow intervales, 
Inviting corn and cattle. Then rejoiced 
The Swedish farmers, and were set ashore : 

46 But on the level isle of Tinicum 

Printz built a fort, and there the trooper, Leif, 

27. To reck is the same as to reckon or to care. 

33. The first Swedish colonists arrived in the Delaware River in the spring 
of 1638, in two ships, The GriflQn and The Key of Calmar, and landed in the 
Minquas Creek, called by them the Christiana. 

34. John Printz, Governor of " New Sweden," was sent from Stockholm to 
the banks of the Delaware with an armed force. 

4G. Printz named the fort " New Gottenburg." The island of Tinicum — 
called Tenacong by the Indians — is situated on the west shore of the Delaware, 
between Chester and Philadelphia. It is formed by the river, Darby Creek, 



LARS. 39 

Abode three years : and he was fain to tell, 
When wounds and age had crij>pled him, how fair 
And fruitful was the land, how full of sun 
60 And bountiful in streams, — and pity 't was 

The strong Norse blood could not have stocked it all ! 

Lars knew not why these stories should return 
To haunt his gloomy brain : but it was so, 
And on the current of his memory launched 

B6 His thought, and followed ; then neglected will 
Awoke, and on the track of thought embarked. 
And soon his life was borne away from all 
It knew, and burst the adamantine ring 
Which bound its world within the greater world. 

60 As one who, wandering by the water-side. 
Steps in an empty boat, and sits him down. 
Not knowing that his step has loosed the chain, 
And drifts away, unwitting, on the tide, 
So he was drifted : no farewell he spake, 

66 But happy Ulvik and the fiord and fell 

Passed from his eyes, and underneath his feet 
The world went round, until he found himself, 
Like one aroused from sleep, upon the hills 
That roll, the heavings of the boundless blue. 

70 As unto Leif, his mother's grandsire, so 
To him it seemed the blue would never turn 
To shallower green, till shining fisher-sails 
Came, stars of land that rose before the land ; 
Then fresher shores and climbing river-banks, 

75 And broken woods and mellow intervales, 

and Bow Creek. Beside the fort Printz built a church, and a large house for 
himself, which went by the name of "Printz Hall," and stood until the begin- 
ning of the present century, when it was burned down. 



40 LARS. 

With houses, corn, and cattle. There, perchance, 
He dreamed, the memory of Leif might bide 
Upon the level isle of Tiniciim, 
Or farms of Swedish settlers : if 't were so, 

80 One stone was laid whereon to build a home. 
But when the vessel at the city's wharf 
Dropped anchor, and the bright new land was won, 
The high red houses and the sober throngs 
Were strange to him, and strange the garb and 
speech. 

85 Awhile he lingered there ; until, outgrown 

The tongue's first blindness and the stranger's shame. 
His helpless craft was turned again to use. 

Then sought he countrymen, and, finding now 
Within the Swedish Church at Weccacoe 

90 No Norse but in the features, else all changed. 
He left and wandered down the Delaware 
Unto the isle of Tinicum ; and there 
Of all that fortress of the valiant Printz 
Some yellow bricks remained. The name of Leif 

96 Who should remember ? Do we call to mind. 
Years afterward, the clover-head we plucked 
Some morn of June, and smelled, and threw away ? 
But when we find a life erased and lost 
Beneath the multitude's unsparing feet. — 
100 A life so clearly beating yet for us 

In blood and memory, — comes a sad surprise ; 
So Lars went onward, losing hope of good. 
To where, upon her hill, fair Wilmington 

84. It was at PhUadelphia that Lars landed, when for the first time he 
heard the English tongue and belield the peculiar dress of the Quakers. 

89. The Swedes' church at Wicaco or Weccacoe still stands at the foot of 
Christian Street, Philadelphia. It was built in 1698, and is the oldest in that 
city. 



LARS. 41 

Looks to the river over marshy meads. 

106 He saw the low brick church, with stunted tower, 
The portal-arches, ivied now and old. 
And passed the gate : lo ! there, the ancient stones 
Bore Norland names and dear, familiar words ! 
It seemed the dead a comfort spake : he read, 

110 Thrusting the nettles and the vines aside, 
And softly wept : he knew not why he wept, 
But here was something in the strange new land 
That made a home, though growing out of graves. 

Led by a faith that rest could not be far, 
116 Beyond the town, where deeper vales bring down 
The winding brooks from Pennsylvanian hills. 
He walked ; the ordered farms were fair to see, 
And fair the peaceful houses : old repose 
Mellowed the lavish newness of the land, 
120 And sober toil gave everywhere the right 
To simple pleasures. As by each he passed, 
A spirit whispered : " No, not there ! " and then 
His sceptic heart said : " Never anywhere I " 

The sun was low, when, with the valley's bend, 
126 There came a change. Two willow-fountains flung 
And showered their leafy streams before a house 
Of rusty stone, with chimneys tall and white ; 
A meadow stretched below ; and dappled cows, 
Full-fed, were waiting for their evening call. 
130 The garden lay upon a sunny knoll. 

An orchard dark behind it, and the barn. 
With wide, warm wings, a giant mother-bird, 

105. The name by which the first Swedish settlers called Wilmington, on 
the Delaware, was " Christina " — after their Queen. The church which they 
built in 1698 remains to this day, surrounded by its ancient graveyard. 



42 LARS. 

Seemed brooding o'er its empty summer nest. 
Then Lars upon the roadside bank sat down, 

135 For here was peace that almost seemed despair, 
So near his eyes, so distant from his hfe 
It lay : and while he mused, a woman came 
Forth from the house, no servant-maid more plain 
In her attire, yet, as she nearer drew, 

140 Her still, sweet face, and pure, untroubled eyes 
Spake gentle blood. A browner dove she seemed. 
Without the shifting iris of the neck. 
And when she spake her voice was like a dove's. 
Soft, even-toned, and sinking in the heart. 

145 Lars could not know that loss and yearning made 
His eyes so pleading ; he but saw how hers 
Bent on hun as some serious angel's might 
Upon a child, strayed in the wilderness. 
She paused, and said : " Thou seemest weary, friend,' 

150 But he, instead of answer, clasped his hands. 
The silent gesture wrought upon her mind : 
She marked the alien face ; then with a smile 
That meant and made excuse for needful words. 
She said : " Perhaps thou dost not understand ? " 

166 "I understand," Lars answered ; " you are good. 
Indeed, I 'm weary : not in hands and feet. 
But tired of idly owning them. I see 
A thousand fields where I could take my bread 
Nor stint the harvest, and a thousand roofs 

160 That shelter corners where my head might rest, 
Nor steal another's pillow ! " 

As to seek 
The meaning of his words, she mused a space. 
In that still land of homes, how should she guess 
What fancies haunt a homeless heart ? Yet his 

165 Was surely need : so, presently, she spake : 



LARS. 43 

" Work only waits, I 've thought, for willing hands ; 
A meal and shelter for the night, we give 
To all that ask ; what more is possible 
Rests with my father." Lars arose and went 

no Beside her, where the cows came loitering on 
With udders swelled, and meadow-scented breath, 
Through opened bars and up the grassy lane. 
" Ho, Star ! " and " Pink ! " he called them coaxingly 
In soft Norse words : they stared as if they knew. 

175 " See, lady ! " then he cried : " the honest things 
Like him that likes them, over all the world." 
But " Nay," she said, " not ' lady ' ! — call me Ruth : 
My father's name is Ezra Mendenhall, 
And hither comes he : I will speak for thee." 

180 So Lars was sheltered, and when evening fell, 
And all, around the clean and peaceful board, 
Kept the brief silence which is fittest prayer 
Before the bread is broken, he was filled 
With something calm, which was akin to peace, 

186 With something restless, which was almost hope. 
The white-haired man with placid forehead sat 
And faced him, grave as any Bergen judge, 
Yet kindly ; he the stranger's claim allowed, 
And ample space for hunger, ere he spake : 

190 " What, then, might be thy name ? " " My name is 
Lars, 
The son of Thorsten, in the Norway land. 
My father said the blood of heathen kings 
Runs in our veins, but we are Christian men, 
Who work the more because of idle sires, 

195 And speak the truth, and try to live good lives." 

Lars ceased, as if a blow had closed his mouth, 
But Ezra said : " The name sounds heathenish 



44 LARS. 

Indeed, yet hardly royal ; blood is naught to us, 
Yea. less than naught, or I, whose fathers served 

200 The third man Edward, and his kindly wife 
Philippa, loved the vanities of courts 
And cast away the birthright of their souls, 
Were now, perchance, a worldly popinjay, 
The Lord forgetting and provoking Him 

205 Me to forget. But this is needless talk : 

Thy hands declare that thou art bred to work ; 
Thy face, methinks, is truthful ; if thy life 
Be good, I know not. I can trust no more 
Than knowledge justifies, and charity 

210 Bids us assume until the knowledge comes." 

" No more I ask," Lars answered ; " simple ways 
To me are home-ways : I can learn to serve. 
Because, when others served me, I was just." 

" Our ways are strange to thee," said Ezra ; '' thine 
215 Unsuitable, if here too long retained. 
The just in spirit find in outward things 
A voice and testimony, which may not 
Be lightly changed : what say est thou to this ? " 

" To change in mine ? Why, truly, 't were no change 
220 To do thy bidding, yet to call thee friend ; 
To use the speech of brethren, as at home ; 
And, feigning not the faith that still may part, 
To bide in charity till knowledge comes, — 
So much, without a promise, I should give." 

«25 " Thou speakest fairly," Ezra said ; " to me 
Is need of labor less than faithful will, 

200. Edward III. of England, and his wife Philippa of Hainault. 



LARS. 46 

But this includes the other : if thou stand 
The easier test, the greater then may come. 
The man who feels his duty makes his own 
S30 The beasts he tends or uses, and the fields, 

Though all may be another's." " Then," said Ruth, 
*' My cows already must belong to Lars : 
His speech was strange, and yet they understood." 

So Lars remained. That night, beneath the roof, 

235 His head lay light ; the very wind that breathed 
Its low, perpetual wail among the boughs 
Sufficed to cheer him, and the one dim star 
That watched him from the highest heaven of 

heavens 
Made morning in his heart. Too soon passed off 

240 The exalted mood, too soon his rich content 
Was tarnished by the daily round of toil. 
And all things grown familiar ; yet his pride, 
That rose at censure for each petty fault 
Of ignorance, supported while it stung. 

245 And Ezra Mendenhall was just, and Ruth 
Serenely patient, sweetly calm and kind : 
So, month by month, the even days were born 
And died, the nights were drowned in deeper rest. 
And fields and fences, streams and stately woods, 

280 Fashioned themselves to suit his newer life, 
Till ever fainter grew those other forms 
Of fiord and fell, the high Hardanger range, 
And Romsdal's teeth of snow. Yea, Brita's eyes 
And Per's hot face he learned to hold away, 

«6B Save when they vexed his helpless soul in dreams^ 

253. The most towering amongst the snowy peaks of the famous Romsdal is 
the Sngehatten, rising to a height of 7,700 feet. 



46 LARS. 

The land was called Hockessin. O'er its hills, 
High, wide, and fertile, blew a healthy air : 
There was a homestead set wherever fell 
A sunward slope, and breathed its crystal vein, 
260 And up beyond the woods, at crossing roads. 
The heart of all, the ancient meeting-house ; 
And Lars went thither on an autumn morn. 
Beside him went, it happened, Abner Cloud, 
A neighbor ; rigid in the sect, and rich, 
205 And it was rumored that he crossed the hill 
To Ezra's house, oftener than neighbor-wise. 
This knew not Lars : but Abner's eye, he thought. 
Fell not upon him as a friend's should fall. 
And Abner's tongue perplexed him, for its tone 
270 Was harsh or sneering when liis words were fair. 
He si3ake from every quarter, as a man 
Who seeks a tender spot, or wound unhealed. 
And probes the surface which he seems to soothe 
Until some nerve betrays infirmity. 
275 This, only, were the two alone : if Ruth 

Came near, his face grew mild as curded milk, 
And unctuous kindness overflowed his lips 
Precise and thin, as who should godlier be ? 
Perhaps he wooed, but 't was a wooing strange, 
280 Lars fancied, or his heart were other stuff 

Than those are made of which can bless or slay. 
It was a silent meeting. Here the men 
And there the women sat, the elder folk 
Facing the younger from their rising seats, 
285 With faces grave beneath the stiff, straight brim 

256. The lovely district of Hockessin, with its old homesteads, built by the 
early Quaker settlers, is situated near the Wilmington and Lancaster turn 
pike, in Mill Creek Hundred, Delaware. 

2G1. The venerable building of gray stone, surrounded by its old grove ol 
tall trees, still attracts large gatherings of "Friends." 



LARS. 4:1 

Or dusky bonnet. They the stillness breathed 
Like some high air wherein their souls were free, 
And on their features, as on those that guard 
The drifted portals of Egyptian fanes, 

wo Sat mystery : the Spirit they obeyed 
By voice or silence, as the influence fell, 
Was near them, or their common seeking made 
A spiritual Presence, mightier than the grasp 
Of each, possessed in reverence by all. 

295 But o'er the soul of Lars there lay the shade 
Of his own strangeness : peace came not to him. 
Awhile he idly watched the flies that crawled 
Along the hard, bare pine, or marked, in front. 
The close-cut hair and flaring lobes of ears, 

300 Until his mind turned on itself, and made 
A wizard twilight, where the shapes of life 
Shone forth and faded : subtler sensg awoke, 
But dream-like first, and then the form of Per 
Became a living presence which abode ; 

305 And all the pain and trouble of the past 
Threatened like something evil yet to come. 
At last, that phantasm of his memory sat 
Beside him, and would not be banished thence 
By will or prayer : he lifted up his face, 

310 And met the cold gray eyes of Abner Cloud. 

The man, i;henceforward, seemed an enemy, 
And Ruth, he scarce knew why, but all her ways 
So cheered and soothed, a power to subjugate 

289. The solemn stillness of a " silent meeting," the immovable composure 
and perfect repose of the Friends who have risen to the distinction of the 
higher seats, suggested to the poet the solemn grandeur of such stone images 
as those sitting enthroned on either side of the entrance to the temple of Abu- 
Simbel. The parallel is not a strange one when we consider that amongst 
the gods worshipped in Egypt there was one glorifying Silence, the guardian of 
Eternal Truth. 



48 LARS. 

The devil in his heart. But now the leaves 

315 Flashed into glittering jewels ere they fell ; 
The pastures lessened, and, when day was done, 
Came quiet evenings, bare of tale and song, 
Such as beneath Norwegian rafters shook 
Tired lids awake ; and wearisome to Lars, 

320 Till Ruth, who noted, fetched the useless books 
Of school-girl days, and jDortioned him his task, 
Herself the teacher. Oft would Ezra smile 
To note her careful and unyielding sway. 
"Nay, now," he said; "I thought our speech was 
plain, 

326 But thou dost hedge each common phrase with thorns, 
Like something rare : dost thou not make it hard ? " 
" A right foundation, father," she replied, 
" Makes easy building : thus it is in life. 
I teach thee, Lars, no other than the Lord 

3S0 Requires of all, through discipline that makes 
His goodness hard until it lives in us." 
With paler cheeks Lars turned him to his task, 
Thus innocently smitten ; but his mind 
Increased in knowledge, till the alien tongue 

335 Obeyed the summons of his thought. So toil 
Brought freedom, and the winter passed away. 

Where Lars was blind, the eyes of Abner Cloud 
Saw more than was. This school-boy giant drew, 
He fancied, like a rank and chance-sown weed 

340 Beside some wholesome jDlant, the strength away 
From his desire, of old and rightful root. 
'T was not that Ruth should love the stranger, — no 
But woman's interest is lightly caught. 
So hers by Lars, that might have turned to him. 

345 Had he not worldly goods, and honest name, 



LARS. 49 

And birthright in the meeting ? Who could weigh 
Unknown with these deserts ? — but gentleness 
Is blind, and goodness ignorant ; so he, 
By malice made sagacious, learned to note 

360 The large, strong veins that filled and rose, although 
The tongue was still, the clench of powerful hands. 
The trouble hiding in the gloomy eye, 
And wrought on these by cunning words. But most 
He played with forms of Scandinavian faith 

355 In that old time before King Olaf came, 
And made their huge, divine barbarities, 
Their strength and slaughter, fields of frost and blood, 
More hideous. " These are fables, thou wilt claim," 
It was his wont to say ; " but such must nurse 

360 A people false and cruel." 

Then would Lars 
Reply with heat : " Not so ! but honest folk, instead, 
Too frank to hide the face of any fault. 
And free from all the evil crafts that breed 
In hearts of cowards ! " 

Ruth, it rarely chanced, 

365 Heard aught of this, but when she heard, her voice 
Came firm and clear : " Indeed, it is not good 
To drag those times forth from their harmless graves. 
Their ignorance and wicked strength are dead, 
And what of good they knew was not their own, 

370 But ours as well : this is our sole concern. 
To feed the life of goodness in ourselves 
And all, that so the world at last escape 
The darkness of our fathers far away." 

As when some malady within the frame 

346. Those born within the Society of Friends have the right of membershif 
and belong to the meeting. 
4 



50 1.ARS. 

375 Is planted, slowly tainting all the blood, 
And underneath the seeming healthy skin 
In secret grows till strong enough to smite 
With rank disorder, so the strife increased ; 
And Lars perceived the devil of his guilt 

380 Had made a darkness, where he ambushed lay 
And waited for his time. Against him rose 
The better knowledge, breeding downy wings 
Of prayer, yet shaken by mistrust and hate 
At touch of Abner's malice. Thus the hour, 

386 The inevitable, came. 

A Sabbath morn 
Of early spring lay lovely on the land. 
Upon the bridge that to the barn's broad floor 
Led from the field, stood Lars : his eyes were fixed 
Upon his knife, and, as he turned the blade 

890 This way and that, and with it turned his thought, 
While musing if 't were best to cover up 
This witness, or to master what it told, 
Close to the haft he marked a splash of rust. 
And shuddered as he held it nearer. " Blood, 

S96 And doubtless human ! " spake a wiry voice, 
And Abner Cloud bent down his head to look. 
A sound of waters filled the ears of Lars 
And a,ll his flesh grew chiU : he said no word. 
" I have thy history, now," thought Abner Cloud, 

400 And in the pallid silence read but fear ; 
So thus aloud : " Thou art a man of crime. 
The proper offspring of the godless tribes 
Who drank from skulls, and gnawed the very 

bones 
Of them they slew. This is thine instrument, 

406 And thou art hungering for its bloody use. 
Say, hast thou ever eaten human flesh ? '* 



LARS. 51 

Then all the landscape, house, and trees, and hills, 
Before the eyes of Lars, biu'ned suddenly 
In crimson fire : the roaring of his ears 

410 Became a thunder, and his throat was brass. 
Yet one wild pang of deadly fear of self 
Shot through his heart, and with a mighty cry 
Of mingled rage, resistance, and appeal, 
He flung his arms towards heaven, and hurled afar 

415 The fatal knife. This saw not Abner Cloud : 
But death he saw within those di-eadful eyes, 
And turned and fled. Behind him bounded Lars, 
The man cast off, the wild beast only left. 
The primal savage, who is born anew 

420 In every child. Not long had been the race. 
But Ezra Mendenhall, approaching, saw 
The danger, swiftly thrust himself between. 
And Lars, whose passion-blinded eyes beheld 
An obstacle, that only, struck him down. 

425 Then deadly hands he dashed at Abner's throat, 
But they were grasped : he heard the cry of Ruth, 
Not what she said : he heard her voice, and stood. 

She knew not what she said : she only saw 
The wide and glaring eyes suffused with blood, 

430 The stiff-drawn lips that, parting, showed the teeth. 
And on the temples every standing vein 
That throbbed, dumb voices of destroying Avrath. 
The soul that filled her told her what to do : 
She dropjDed his hands and softly laid her own 

436 Upon his brow, then looked the devil down 
Within his eyes, till Lars was there again. 
Erelong he trembled, while, o'er all his frame 
A sweat of struggle and of agony 
Brake forth, and from his thi'oat a husky sob. 



52 LARS. 

440 He tried to speak, but the dry tongue refused ; 

He could but groan, and. staggered toward the 

house, 
As walks a man who neither hears nor sees. 

"With bloodless lips of fear gasped Abner Cloud : 
" A murderer ! " as Ezra Mendenhall 

445 Came, stunned, and with a wound across his brow. 
" Oh, never ! " Ruth exclaimed ; but she was pale. 
She bound her father's head ; she gave him drink ; 
She steadied him with arms of gentle strength. 
Then spake to Abner : " Now, I pray thee, go ! " 

450 No more : but such was her authority 

Of speech and glance, the spirit and the power, 
That he obeyed, and turned, and left the place. 

Then Ezra's strength came back ; and " Ruth," he 
said, 
" I see thou hast a purpose : let me know ! " 
455 " I only feel," she answered, " that a soul 
Is here in peril, but the way to help 
Is not made plain : the knowledge will be given." 
" I have no fear for thee, my daughter : do 
What seemeth good, and strongly brought upon 
460 Thy mind by plain direction of the Lord ! 
There is a power of evil in the man 
That might be purged, if once he saw the light." 

She left him, seated in the sunny porch : 
Within the house and orchard all was still, 
466 Nor found she Lars, at first. But she was driven 
By that vague purpose which was void of form, 
And climbed, at la«t, to where his chamber lay, 
Beneath the rafters. On the topmost step 



LARS. 53 

He sat, his forehead bent upon his knees, 
470 A bundle at his side, as when he came. 

He raised his head : Ruth saw his eyes were dull, 
His features cold and haggard, and his voice, 
When thus he spake to her, was hoarse and strange : 
" Thou need'st not tell me : I already know. 
475 I hope thou thinkest it is hard to me. 
I am a man of violence and blood, 
Not meet for thy pure company ; and now 
When unto peaceful ways my heart inclined, 
And thou hadst shown the loveliness of good, 
450 My guilt, not yet atoned, brings other guilt 
To drive me forth : and this disgrace is worst." 

Ruth stood below him where he sat : she laid 

One hand upon the hand upon his knee, 

And spake : " I judge thee not ; I cannot know 

485 What grievous loss or strong temptation wrought ; 
But if, indeed, to good and peaceful ways 
Thy heart inclines, canst thou not wi'estle with 
The Adversary ? This knowledge of thy guilt 
Is half -repentance : whole would make thee sound." 

490 " And then — and then" — his natural voice re- 
turned ; 
" Then — pardon ? " " Pardon, now, from me and 

, ' him, 

My father, — for I know his perfect heart, — 
Thou hast ; but couldst thou turn thy dreadful strength 
That so it lift, and change, and chasten thee ? " 

496 "" If I but could ! " — he cried, and bowed again 
His forehead. "Wait!'* she whispered, left him 

there. 
And sought her father 

Now, when Ezra heard 



54 LARS. 

All this repeated, for a space he sat 

In earnest meditation. " Bid him come ! " 

500 He said, at last, and Ruth brought Lars to him. 
Upon the doubting and the suffering face 
The old man gazed ; then " Put thy bundle by ! " 
Came from his lips ; '' thou shalt not leave, to-day. 
Thy hands have done me hurt ; if thou art just, 

505 One service do thyself, in folloMang me. 

Come with us to the meeting : there the Lord 
Down through the silence of fraternal souls 
May reach His hand. We cannot guess His ways ; 
Only so much the inward Voice declares." 

510 But little else was said : upon them lay 

The shadow of an unknown past, the weight 
Of present trouble, the uncertainty 
Of what should come ; yet o'er the soul of Ruth 
Hung something happier than she dared to feel, 

515 And Lars, in silence, with submissive feet 
Followed, as one who in a land of mist 
Feels one side warmer, where the sun must be. 
Then, parted ere they reached the separate doors, 
Lars went with Ezra. Abner Cloud, within, 

520 Beheld them enter, and he marvelled much 

Such things could be. Straightway the highest seat 
Took Ezra, where the low partition-boards 
Sundered the men and women. There alone 
Sat they whom most the Spirit visited, 

525 And spake through them, and gave authority. 

Then silence fell ; how long, Lars could not know, 
Nor Ruth, for each was in a trance of soul, 

518. As the men and women sit on opposite sides of the meeting-house, sc 
they are also obliged to enter by separate doors. 



LARS. 55 

Till Ezra rose. His words, at first, were few 

And broken, and they trembled on his lips ; 
B30 But soon the power and full conviction came, 

And then, as with Ezekiel's trumpet-voice 

He spake : " Lo ! many vessels hath the Lord 

Set by the fount of Evil in our hearts. 
" Here envy and false-witness catch the green, 
535 There pride the purple, lust the ruddy stream : 

But into anger runs the natural blood. 

And flows the faster as 't is tapped the more. 

Here lies the source : the conquest here begins, 

Then meekness comes, good-will, and purity. 
540 Let whoso weigh, when his offence is sore. 

The Lord's offences, and his patience mete. 

Though myriads less in measure, by the Lord's ! 

This yoke is easy, if in love ye bear. 

For none, the lowest, rather hates than loves ; 
545 But Love is shy, and Hate delights to show 

A brazen forehead ; 't is the noblest sign 

Of courage, and the rarest, to reveal 

The tender evidence of brotherhood. 

With one this sin is born, with other, that ; 
550 Who shall compare them ? — either sin is dark, 

But one redeeming Light is over both. 

The Evil that assails resist not ye 

With equal evil ! — else ye change to man 

The Lord within, whom ye should glorify 
555 By words that prove Him, deeds that bless like 
Him! 

What spake the patient and the holy Christ ? 

Unto thy brother first be reconciled, 

531 . Ezekiel was one of the prisoners taken from Judaea to Babylon during 
the reign of Nebuchadnezzar. There he became inspired, and proph(!sied the 
total destruction of Judaea as a punishment for the idolatry of the Hebrews. 



56 LARS. 

Then bring thy gift ! and further : Bless ye them 
That curse you, and do good to them that hate 

B60 And jDersecute, that so the children ye may be 
Of Him, the Father. Yea, His perfect love 
Renewed in us, and of our struggles born, 
Gives, even on earth. His pure, abiding peace. 
Behold, these words I speak are nothing new, 

B66 But they are burned with fire upon my mind 
To help — the Lord permit that they may save ! " 

Therewith he laid his hat aside, and all 
Beheld the purple welt across his brow, 
And marvelled. Thus he prayed : " Our God and 
Lord 

B70 And Father, unto whom our secret sins 
Lie bare and scarlet, turn aside from them 
In holy pity, search the tangled heart 
And breathe Thy life upon its seeds of good ! 
Thou leavest no one wholly dark : Thou giv'st 

B7b The hope and yearning where the will is weak, 
And unto all the blessed strength of love. 
So give to him, and even withhold from me 
Thy gifts designed, that he receive the more : 
Give love that pardons, prayer that purifies, 

680 And saintly courage that can suffer wrong, 

For these beget Thy peace, and keep Thee near ! " 

He ceased : all hearts were stirred ; and suddenly 
Amid the younger members Lars arose, 
Unconscious of the tears upon his face, 
68B And scarcely audible : " Oh, brethren here. 
He prayed for my sake, for my sake pray ye ! 

567. The Friends take off their hats only during "supplication," as they 
call prayer, at theia religious gatherings. 



LARS. 57 

I am a sinful man : I do repent. 

I see the truth, but in my heart the lamp 

Is barely lighted, any wind may quench. 

690 Bear with me still, be helj^ful, that I live I " 
Then all not so much wondered but they felt 
The man's most earnest need ; and many a voice 
Responsive murmured : " Yea, I will ! " and some, 
Whose brows were tombstones over passions slain, 

695 When meeting broke came up and took his hand. 

The three walked home in silence, but to Lars 
The mist had lifted, and around him feU 
A bath of light ; and dimly spread before 
His feet the sweetness of a purer world. 

BOO When Ezra, that diviner virtue spent 

Which held him up, grew faint upon the road, 
The arm of Lars became a strength to him ; 
Yet all he said, before the evening fell, 
Was : " Gird thy loins, my friend, the way is long 

605 And wearisome : haste not, but never rest ! " 

" I will not close mine eyes," said Lars to Ruth, 

And laid aside the book. No Cross, No Crown, 

She gave him as a comfort and a help, 
" Till thou hast heard the tale I have to tell. 
610 Thou speakest truth, the knowledge of my sin 

Is half-repentance, yet the knowledge burns 

Like fire in ashes till it be confessed. 

Revoke thy pardon, if it must be so, 

When all is told : yea, sjDeak to me no more, 
615 But I must speak ! " So he began, and spared 

No circumstance of love, and hate, and crime, 

G07. This book is the longest and best known of William Penn's numerous? 
religious essays. 



58 LARS. 

The songs and dances which the Friends forbid, 
The bloody customs and the cries profane, 
Till all lay bare and horrible. And Ruth 

620 Grew pale and flushed by turns, and often wept, 
And, when he ceased, was silent, '* Now, farewell ! " 
He would have said, when she looked up and spake ; 
*' Thy words have shaken me : we read such tales, 
Nor comprehend, so distant and obscure : 

626 Thou makest manifest the living truth. 
Save thee, I never knew a man of blood : 
Thou shouldst be wicked, and my heart declares 
Thy gentleness : ah, feeling all thy sin. 
Can I condemn thee, nor myself condemn ? 

630 Thy burden, thus, is laid upon me. Pray 
For power and patience, pray for victory ! 
Then falls the burden, and my soul is glad." 

Lars saw what he had done. His limbs unstrung 
Gave way, and softly on his knees he sank, 
83B And all the passion of his nature bore 
His yearning upward, till in faith it died. 
He rose, at last ; his face was calm and strong : 
Ruth smiled, and then they parted for the night. 

Yet Ezra's words were true : the way was long 
S40 And wearisome. The better will was there, 
But not the trust in self ; for, still beside 
Those pleasant regions opening on his soul. 
Beat the unyielding blood, as beats afar 
The vein of lightning in a summer cloud. 
H6 And, as in each severe community 

Of interests circumscribed, where all is known 

And roughly handled till opinions join. 

So, here were those who kindly turned to Lars, 



LARS. 59 

And those who doubted, or declared him false. 

650 In this probation, Ruth became his stay : 

She knew and turned not, knew and yet believed 
As did no other, — hoping more than he. 
Meanwhile the summer and the harvest came. 
One afternoon, ^vithin the orchard, Ruth 

655 Gathered the first sweet apples of the year, 
That give such pleasure by their painted cheeks 
And healthy odor. Little breezes shook 
The interwoven flecks of sun and shade. 
O'er all the tufted carpet of the grass ; 

660 The birds sang near her, and beyond the hedge. 
Where stretched the oat-field broad along the hill. 
Were harvest voices, broken wafts of sound. 
That brought no words. Then something made her 

start ; 
She gazed and waited : o'er the thorny wall 

-66 Lars leaped, or seemed to fly, and ran to her, 
His features troubled and his hands outstretched. 
"' O Ruth ! " he cried ; " I pray thee, take my hands I 
This power I have, at last : I can refrain 
Till help be sought, the help that dwells in thee." 

670 She took his hands, and soon, in kissing palms, 
His violent pulses learned the beat of hers. 
Sweet warmth o'erspread his frame ; he saw her f ace. 
And how the cheeks flushed and the eyelids fell 
Beneath his gaze, and all at once the truth 

675 Beat fast and eager in the palms of both. 
"Take not away;" he cried: "now, nevermore, 
Thy hands ! O Ruth, my saving angel, give 



6G4. The early settlers of this region, in trying to reproduce the features oi 
their old-world homes, planted the hawthorn around their new fields. Some of 
these hedges are still green and thriving, while others have been replaced by 
the thornier osage-orange. 



60 LARS. 

Thyself to me, and let our lives be one ! 

I cannot spare thee : heart and soul alike 
680 Have need of thee, and seem to cry aloud : 

' Lo ! faith and love and holiness are one ! ' " 

But who shall jDaint the beauty of her eyes 

When they unveiled, and softly clung to his. 

The while she spake : "I think I loved thee first 
685 When first I saw thee, and I give my life, 

In perfect trust and faith, to these thy hands." 
" The fight is fought,'' said Lars ; "so blest by thee, 

The strength of darkness and temptation dies. 

If now the light must reach me through thy soul, 
690 It is not clouded : clearer were too keen, 

Too awful in its purity, for man." 

So into joy revolved the doubtful year. 
And, ere it closed, the gentle fold of Friends 
Sheltered another member, even Lars. 

695 The evidence of faith, in words and ways, 
Could none reject, and thus opinions joined, 
And that grew natural which was marvel first. 
Then followed soon, since Ezra willed it so, 
Seeing that twofold duty guided Ruth, 

700 The second marvel, bitterness to one 

Who blamed his haste, nor felt how free is fate, 
Whose sweeter name is love, of will or plan. 
And all the country-side assembled there. 
One winter Sabbath, when in snow and sky 

705 The colors of transfiguration shone. 

Within the meeting-house. There Ruth and Lars 

705. Transfiguration — a change of outward appearance — is the term applied 
especially to the glory in which the disciples, Peter, James, and John, beheld 
Jesus Christ on Mount Tabor (Matt. xvii.). Here it is the effect of sun- 
shine in winter which is shedding light and brilliancy over sky and snowy 
landscape. 



LARS. 61 

Together sat upon the women's side, 

And when the peace was perfect, they arose. 

He took her by the hand, and spake these words, 
no As ordered : " In the presence of the Lord 

And this assembly, by the hand I take 

Ruth Mendenhall, and promise unto her, 

Divine assistance blessing me, to be 

A loving and faithful husband, even 
as Till death shall separate us." Then spake Ruth 

The same sweet words ; and so the twain were one. 



BOOK III. 

Love's history, as Life's, is ended not 
By marriage : though the ignorant Paradise 
May then be lost, the world of knowledge waits, 
With ample ojDportunities, to mould 

5 Young Eve and Adam into wife and man. 
Some grace of sentiment expires, yet here 
The nobler poetry of life begins : 
The squire is knight, the novice takes the vow, 
Old service falls, new powers and duties join, 

10 And that high Beauty, which is crown of all, 
No more a lightsome maid, with tresses free 
And mantle floating from the bosom bare, 
Confronts us now like holy Barbara, 
As Palma drew, or she. Our Lady, born 

15 On Melos, tyjje of perfect gTowth and pure. 

So Lars and Ruth beside each other learned 
What neither, left unwedded, could have won : 
He how reliant and how fond the heart 
Whose love seemed almost pity, she how firm 
20 And masterful the nature, which appealed 

There for support where hers had felt no strain ; 
And both, how solemn, sweet, and wonderful 

13. Art shows no more exalted types of mature womanhood than Saint 
Barbara (Venice), painted by the older Palma (sixteenth century), and the 
antique statue (Louvre, Paris) of the Venus of Melos, so called after the island 
in the ^gean Sea where it was discovered. 



LARS. 63 

The life of man. Their life, indeed, was still. 
Too still for aught save blessing, for a time. 

25 All things were ordered : plenty in the house 
And fruitfulness of field and meadow made 
Light labor, and the people came and went, 
According to their old and friendly ways. 
Within the meeting-house upon the hill 

30 Now Ezra oftener spake, and sometimes Lars, 
Fain to obey the spirit which impelled ; 
And what of customed phrase they missed, or tone, 
Unlike their measured chant, did he supply 
With words that bore a message to the heart. 

36 All this might seem sufficient ; yet to Ruth 
Was still unrest, where, unto shallow eyes 
Dwelt peace ; she felt the uneasy soul of Lars, 
And waited, till his own good time should come. 
Yea, verily, he was happy : could she doubt 

40 The signs in him that spake the same in her ? 
Yea, he was happy : every day proclaimed 
The freshness of a blessing rebestowed, 
The conscious gift, unworn by time or use. 
And this was sweet to see ; yet he betrayed 

45 That wavering will, the opposite of faith, 

Which comes of duty known and not performed. 
It seemed his lines of life were cast in peace, 
In green Hockessin, where Lars Thorstensen, 
A sound that echoed of Norwegian shores, 

60 Became Friend Thurston : all things there conspired 
To blot the Past, but. in his soul it lived. 

Then, as his thoughts went back, his tongue revealed : 
He spake of winding fiord and windy fell, 
Of Ulvik's cottages and Graven's l^ke. 



64 LARS. 

55 And all the moving features of a life 

So strange to Ruth ; till she made bold to break, 
Through playful chiding, what was grave surmise : 
" I fear me, Lars, that thou art sick for home. 
Thy love is with me and thy memory far : 

so Thou seest with half thy sight ; and in thy dreams 
I hear thee murmur in thine other tongue. 
So soft and strange, so good, I cannot doubt, 
If I but knew it ; but thy dreams are safe." 
''■ Nay, wife," he said ; " misunderstand them not ! 

06 For dreams hold up before the soul, released 
From worldly business, pictures of itself, 
And in confused and mystic parables 
Foreshadow what it seeks. I do confess 
I love Old Norway's bleak, tremendous hills, 

70 Where winter sits, and sees the summer burn 
In valleys deeper than yon cloud is high : 
I love the ocean-arms that gleam and foam 
So far within the bosom of the land : 
It is not that. I do confess to thee 

75 I love the frank, brave habit of the folk. 

The hearts unspoiled, though fed from ruder times 
And filled with angry blood : I love the tales 
That taught, the ancient songs that cradled me. 
The tongue my mother spake, unto the Lord 

80 As sweet as thine upon the lips of prayer : 
It is not that." 

Then he perused her face 
Full earnestly, and drew a deeper breath. 
" My wife, my Ruth," his words came, low yet firm; 
" Thou knowest of one who brake a precious box 

36 Of ointment, and refreshed the weary feet 

Of Him who pardoned her. But, had He given 
Not pardon only, had He stretched His arm 



LARS. 66 

And plucked, as from the vine of Paradise, 
All blessing and all bounty and all good, 
90 What then were she that idly took and used ? " 

" I read thy meaning," answered Ruth ; " speak on ! " 
" Am I not he that idly uses ? Are there not 
Here many reapers, there a wasting field ? 
In them the fierce inheritance of blood 
95 I overcame, is mighty still to slay ; 
For ancient custom is a ring of steel 
They know not how to snap. By day and night 
A powerful spirit calls me : ' Go to them ! ' 
What should mine answer to the spirit be ? " 

100 If there were aught of struggle in her heart, 
She hid the signs. A little pale her cheek, 
But with untrembling eyelids she upraised 
Her face to his, and took him by the hands : 
" Thy Lord is mine : what should I say to thee, 

105 Except what she, whose name I bear, ere yet 
She went to glean in Bethlehem's harvest-field. 
Said to Naomi : ' Nay, entreat me not 
To leave thee, or return from following thee ? ' 
Should not thy people, then, be mine, as mine 

110 Are made thine own ? I will not fail : He calls 
On both of us who gives thee this command." 

So Ruth, erelong, detached her coming life 
From all its past, until each well-known thing 
No more was sure or needful, to her mind. 
116 Her neighbors, even, seemed to come and go 
Like haK-existences ; her days, as well. 
Were clad with dream ; she understood the wordSj 
" I but sojourn among you for a time," 



66 LARS. 

And, from the duties which were habits, turned 
120 To brood o'er those unknown, awaiting her. 

But Ezra, when he heard their purpose, spake t 
" Because this thing is very hard to me, 
I dare not preach against it ; but I doubt. 
Being acquainted with the heart of man. 

128 'T is one thing, Lars, to build thy virtue here, 
Where others urge the better will : but there, 
Alone, persuaded, ridiculed, assailed, 
Couldst thou resist, yet love them ? Nay, I know 
Thy power and conscience : Try them not too soon ! 

130 Is all I ask. See, I am full of years. 

And thou, my daughter, thou, indeed a son, 
Stay me on either side : wait but awhile 
And ye are free, yea, seasoned as twin beams 
Of soundest oak, for lintels of His door." 

136 They patiently obeyed. The years went by, 
Until five winters blanched to perfect snow 
The old man's hair. Then, when the gusts of March 
Shook into life the torpid souls of trees. 
His body craved its rest. He summoned Lars, 

140 And meekly said : "I pray thee, pardon me 
That I have lived so long : I meant it not. 
Now I am certain that the end is near ; 
And, noting as I must, the deep concern 
On both your minds, I fain would aid that work, 

14B The which, I see, ye mean to undertake." 

Then counsel wise he gave : it seemed his mind. 
Those five long years, had pondered all things well. 
Computed every chance and sought the best. 
Foresaw and weighed, foreboded and prepared, 

160 Until the call was made his legacy. 



LARS. 67 

At last he said : " My sight is verily clear, 

And I behold your duty as yourselves ; " 

Then spake farewell with pleasant voice, and died. 

When summer came, upon an English ship 

155 Sailed Lars and Ruth between the rich green shores 
That widened, sinking, till the land was drowned, 
And they were blown on rolling fields of blue. 
Blown backward more than on ; and evil eyes 
Of sailors on their sober Quaker garb 

^60 Began to turn. " Our Jonah ! " was the cry, 
When Lars was seen upon the quarter-deck. 
And one, a ruffian from the Dorset moors, 
Became so impudent and foul of tongue 
That Ruth was frightened, would have fled below, 

16- But Lars prevented her. Three strides he made, 
Then by the waistband and the neck he seized 
That brutish boor, and o'er the bulwarks held. 
Above the brine, like death for very fear. 
" Now, promise me to keep a decent tongue ! " 

170 Cried Lars ; and he : "I promise anything, 
But let me not be lost ! " Thenceforth respect 
Those sailors showed to strength, though clad in 
peace. 
" Now see I wherefore thou wert made so strong," 
Ruth said to him, and inwardly rejoiced ; 

175 And soon the mists and baffling breezes fled 
Before a wind that down from Labrador 
Blew like a will unwearied, night and day, 
Across the desert of the middle sea. 
Out of the waters rose the SciUy Isles, 

180 Afar and low, and then the Cornish hills, 
And, floating up by many a vaUey-mouth 
Of Devon streams, they came to Bristol town. 



68 LARS. 

Awhile among their brethren they abode, 

For thus had Ezra ordered. There were some 

186 Concerned in trade, whose vessels to and fro 
From Hull across the German Ocean sailed, 
And touched Norwegian ports ; and Lars in those. 
The old man said, must find his nearest stay. 
But soon it chanced that with a vessel came 

190 A man of Arendal, in Norway land, 

Known to the Friends as fair in word and deed, 
And well-inclined ; and Gustaf Hansen named. 
Norse tongue makes easy friendship : Lars and he 
Became as brothers in a little while, 

196 And, when his worldly charge was ordered, they 
Together all embarked for Arendal. 
Calm autumn skies were o'er them, and the sea 
Swelled in unwrinkled glass : they scarcely knew 
How sped the voyage, until Lindesnaes, 

200 At first a cloud, stood fast, and spread away 
To flanking capes, with gaps of blue between, 
Then rose, and showed, above the precipice. 
The firs of Norway climbing thick and high 
To wilder crests that made the inland gloom. 

205 In front, the sprinkled skerries pierced the wave ; 
Between them, slowly glided in and out 
The tawny sails, while houses low and red 
Hailed their return, or sent them fearless forth. 
" This is thy Norway, Lars ; it looks like thee," 

210 Said Ruth : "it has a forehead firm and bold ; 
It sets^its foot below the reach of storms. 
Yet hides, methinks, in each retiring vale. 
Delight in toil, contentment, love, and peace, — 
My land, my husband ! let me love it, too ! " 

190. Arendal is situated to the northeast of Cape LindeBnaes, which is the 
most southern point of Norway. 



LARS. 69 

215 So on their softened hearts the sun went down 
And rose once more ; then Gustaf Hansen came 
Beside them, pilot of famih'ar shores. 
And said : "To starboard, yonder, lies the isle 
As I described it ; here, upon our lee 

220 Is mainland all, and there the Nid comes down, 
The timber-shouldering Nid, from endless woods 
And wilder valleys where scant grain is grown. 
Now bend your glances as my finger points, — 
Lo ! there it is, the spire of Arendal ! 

225 Our little town, as homely, kind, and dear, 

As some old dame, round whom her children's 

babes 
Cling to be petted, comforted, and spoiled. 
And here, my friends, shall ye with me abide 
And with my Thora, till the winter melts, 

230 Which there, beyond yon wall of slaty cloud. 
Possesses fell and upland even now. 
Too strange is Ruth to dare those snowy wastes, 
Nor is there need : good Thora's heart will turn 
To her, I know, as mine hath turned to Lars ; 

235 And Arendal is warmly-harbored, snug. 
And not unfriendly in the time of storms." 

They could not say him nay. The anchor dropped 
Before the town, and Thora, from the land. 
Tall, broad of breast, with ever-rosy cheeks 

240 O'er which the breezes tossed her locks of gray. 
Stretched arms of welcome ; and the ancient house, 
With massive beams and ample chimney-place, 
As in Hockessin, made immediate home. 
To Ruth, how sweetly the geraniums peeped 

246 With scarlet eyes across the window-sill I 
How orderly the snowy curtains shone ! 



70 LARS. 

Familiar, too, the plainness and the use 
In all things ; presses of the dusky oak, 
Fair linen, store of healing herbs that smelled 

250 Of charity, and signs of forethought wise 
That justified the plenty of the house. 
It was as Gustaf said : good Thora loved 
The foreign woman, taught and counselled her. 
Taking to heart their purpose, so that she 

256 Unconsciously received the truth of Friends. 
And Gustaf also, through the 3oul of Lars, 
To him laid bare, and all that blessing clear 
Obedience brings when speaks the inward voice, 
Believed erelong ; then others came to hear, 

260 Till there, in Arendal, a brotherhood 
Of earnest seekers for the light grew up, 
Before the hasty spring of northern lands 
Sowed buttercups along the banks of Nid. 

But when they burst, those precious common flowers 
265 That not a meadow of the world can spare. 

Said Lars, one Sabbath, to the little flock : 
" Here we have tarried long, and it is well ; 

But now we go, and it is also well. 

This much is blessing added unto those 
270 That went before ; hence louder rings the call 

Which brought me hither, and I must obey. 

My path is clear, my duty strange and stern, 

The end thereof uncertain ; it may be. 

My brethren, I shall never see ye more. 
275 Your love upholds me, and your faith confirms 

My purpose : bless me now, and bid farewell ! " 

Then Gustaf wept, and said : " Our brother, go ! 

Yet thou art with us, and we walk with thee 

In this or yonder world, as bids the Lord." 



LARS. 71 

MO Their needful preparations soon were made : 
Two strong dun horses of the mountain breed, 
With hoofs like claws, that clung where'er they 

touched, 
Unholstered saddles, leathern wallets filled 
With scrip for houseless ways, close-woven cloaks 

286 To comfort them upon the cloudy fells. 

And precious books, by Penn and Barclay writ 
And Woolman, — these made up their little store. 
The few and faithful went with them a space 
Along the banks of Nid ; there first besought 

290 All power and light, and furtherance for the task 
Awaiting Lars : they knew not what it was. 
But what it was, they knew, was good : then all 
Gave hands and said farewell, and Lars and Ruth 
Rode boldly onward, facing the dark land. 

296 Across the lonely hills of Tellemark, 

That smiled in sunshine, went their earnest way, 
And by the sparkling waters of the Tind ; 
Then, leaving on the left that chasm of dread 
Where, under Gousta's base, the Riukan falls 

300 In winnowing blossoms, tendrilled vines of foam. 
And bursting rockets of the starry spray, 
They rode through forests into Hemsedal. 
The people marvelled at their strange attire. 
But all were kind ; and Ruth, to whom their speech 

306 Was now familiar, found such ordered toil. 
Such easy gladness, temperate desire. 
That many doubts were laid : the spirit slept, 

286. Robert Barclay, the "Laird of Ury " of Whittier's ballad, was the son 
of a Scotch laird. He lived from 1648 to 1690, and was the author of three 
(volumes of relig^ious essays. John Woolman was a New Jersey Friend, born 
near Burlington in 1720. He, too, was the author of several religious essays, 

299. See note to line 369, pages 24-2.5 



72 LARS. 

She thought, and waited but a heartsome calL 
Then ever higher stood the stormy fells 

sio Against uncertain skies, as they advanced ; 
And ever grander plunged the roaring snow 
Of mighty waterfalls from cliff to vale : 
The firs were mantled in a blacker shade, 
The rocks were rusted as with ancient blood, 

315 And w^nds that shouted or in wailing died 
Harried the upper fields, in endless wrath 
At finding there no man. 

The soul of Lars 
Expanded with a solemn joy ; but Ruth, 
Awed by the gloom and wildness of the land, 

320 Rode close and often touched her husband's arm ; 
And when within its hollow dell they saw 
The church of Borgund like a dragon sit, 
Its roof aU horns, its pitchy shingles laid 
Like serpent scales, its door a dusky throat, 

326 She whispered : " This the ancients must have left 
From their abolished worship : is it so ? 
This is no temple of the living Lord, 
That makes me fear it like an evil thing ! " 
" Consider not its outward form," said Lars, 

330 " Or mine may vex thee, for my sin outgrown. 
I would the dragon in the people's blood 
As harmless were I " So downward, side by side, 
From ridges of the windy Fille Fell 
Unto the borders of the tamer brine, 

336 The sea-arm bathing Frithiof 's home, they rode ; 

322. This remarkable building is probably the oldest church in Norway 
dating as far back as the twelfth century. 

335. Framnds, the home of Frithiof, is described in Tegn^r's Frithiof t 
Saga as follows : — 

*' Three miles around him extended the lands that he held ; upon three sides 
Valleys and mountains and hills, but the fourth was svrept by the ocean. 



LARS. 73 

Then two days floated past those granite walls 
That mock the boatman with a softer song, 
And took the land again, where shadow broods, 
And frequent thunder of the tumbling rocks 

S40 Is heard the summer through, in Naerodal. 
To Ruth the gorge seemed awful, and the path 
That from its bowels toiled to meet the sun, 
Was hard as any made for Christian's feet. 
In Bunyan's dream ; but Lars with Hghter step 

345 The giddy zigzag scaled, for now, beyond. 
Not distant, lay the Vossevangen vale, 
And all the cheerful neighborhood of home. 

At last, one quiet afternoon, they crossed 
The fell from Graven, and below them saw 

350 The roofs of Ulvik and the orchard-trees 
Shining in richer colors, and the fiord, 
A dim blue gloom between Hardanger heights, — 
The strife and peace, the plenty and the need ; 
And both were silent for a little space. 

355 Then Ruth : "I had not thought thy home so 
fair. 
Nor yet so stern and overhung with dread. 
It seems to draw me as a danger draws, 
Yet gives me courage : is it well with thee ? " 
" That which I would, I know," responded Lars, 

360 " Not that which may be : ask no more, I pray ! " 

Birch woods crowned the tops of the hills, on whose slopes to the valleys 
Flourished the golden corn, and the rye swayed tall as a warrior. 
Lakes full many in number their mirrors held out to the mountains, — 
Held them out to the forests, whose depths the elk with broad antlers 
Roamed on his kingly progress, and drank of brooklets a hundred." 

Frithiof's Saga. By E. Tegner. Translated by L. A. Sherman. Canto m. 

The spot where Framnas stood is said to be near the point of Vangnses, on 
the Sogne Fiord. 

340. The famous NoprodaL is situated between the Hardanger and Sogno 
Fiords. It is shut in by steep walls of rock 1,000 feet high. 



74 LARS. 

Then downward, weary, strangely moved, yet glad. 
They went, a wonder to the Ulvik folk. 
Till some detected, 'neath his shadowy brim. 
The eyes of Lars ; and he was scarcely housed 

866 With his astonished kindred, ere the news 
Spread from the fountain, ran along the shore. 
For all believed him dead : in truth, the dead 
C6uld not have risen in stranger guise than he. 
Who spake as one they knew and did not know, 

370 Who seemed another, yet must be the same. 

His folk were kind : they owned the right of blood, 
Nor would disgrace it, though a half-disgrace 
Lars seemed to bring ; but in her strange, sweet self 
Ruth brought a pleasure which erelong was love. 

37B Her gentle voice, her patient, winning ways, 
Pure thought and ignorance of evil things 
That on her wedlock left a virgin bloom. 
Set her above them, yet her nature dwelt 
In lowHness : sister and saint she seemed. 

380 Soon Thorsten, brother of the slaughtered Per, 
Alike a stalwart fisher of the fiord. 
Heard who had come, and published unto all 
The debt of blood he meant to claim of Lars. 
" The coward, only, comes as man of peace, 

385 To shirk such payment ! " were his bitter words. 
And they were carried unto Lars : but he 
Spake firmly : " Well I knew what he would claim : 
The coward, knowing, comes not." Notliing more ; 
Nor could they guess the purpose of his mind. 

«9o In little Ulvik all the people learned 

What words had passed, and there were friends of 

both; 
But Lars kept silent, walked the ways unarmed, 



LARS. 15 

And preached the pardon of an utmost wrong. 
Now Thorsten saw in this but some device 

$95 To try his own forbearance : his revenge 
Grew hungry for an answering enmity, 
And weary of its shame ; and so, at last, 
He sent this message : " If Lars Thorstensen 
Deny not blood he spilled, and guilt thereof, 

100 Then let him meet me by the Graven lake, — 
On such a day." 

When came the message, Lars 
Spake thus to all his kindred : ''I will go : 
I do deny not my blood-guiltiness. 
This thing hath rested on my soul for years, 

405 And must be met." Then unto Ruth he turned : 
" I go alone : abide thou with our kin." 
But she arose and answered : " Nay, I go ! 
Forbid me not, or I must disobey. 
Which were a cross. I give thee to the Lord, 

410 His helpless instrument, to break or save ; 

Think not my weakness shall confuse thy will ! " 
Lars laid his hand upon her head, and all 
Were strangely melted, though he spake no more, 
Nor then, nor on the way to Graven lake. 

415 Lo ! there were many gathered, kin of both, 
Or friends, or folk acquainted with the tale, 
And curious for its end. The summer sky 
Was beautiful above them, and the trees 
Stood happy, stretching forth forgiving arms ; 

120 Yet sultry thunder in the hearts of men 
Brooded, the menace of a rain of blood. 
Lars paused not when he came. He saw the face 
Of Thorsten, ruddy, golden-haired like Per's, 
Amid the throng, and straightway went to him 



76 LARS. 

425 And spake : '' I come, as thou invitest me. 
My brother, I have shed thy brother's blood ; 
What wouldst thou I should do thee, to atone ? " 

" Give yours ! " cried Thorsten, stepping back a pace. 

•' That murderous law we took from heathen sires/' 
430 Said Lars, ''is guilt upon a Christian land, 
I do abjure it. Wilt thou have my blood, 
Nor less, I dare not lift a hand for thine." 

" You came not, then, to fight, though branded here 
A coward ? " 

''Nay, nor ever," answered Lars ; 
435 " But, were I coward, could I calmly bear 

Thy words ? " Then Thorkil, friend of Thorsten, 
cried, 
" These people, in their garments, I have heard, 
Put on their peace ; or else some magic dwells 
In shape of hat or color of the coat, 
440 To make them harmless as a browsing hare. 
That Lars we knew had danger in his eyes ; 
But this one, — why, uncover, let us see! " 
Therewith struck off the hat. And others there 
Fell upon Lars, and tore away his coat, 
44B Nor ceased the outrage until they had made 
His body bare to where the leathern belt 
Is clasped between the breast-bone and the hip. 

Around his waist they buckled then a belt, 
And brought a knife, and thrust it in his hand. 
450 The open fingers would not hold : the knife 
Fell from them, struck, and quivered in the sod. 
Thorsten, apart, had also bared his breast. 



LARS. 77 

And waited, beautiful in rosy life. 

Then Thorkil and another drew the twain 

465 Together, hooked the belts of each, and strove 
Once more to arm the passive hand of Lars : 
In vain : his open fingers would not hold 
The knife, which fell and quivered in the sod. 
He looked in Thorsten's eyes ; great sorrow fell 

460 Upon him, and a tender human love. 
" I did not this," he said ; "nor will resist. 
If thou art minded so, then strike me dead : 
But thou art sacred, for the blood I spilled 
Is in thy veins, my brother : yea, all blood 

465 Of all men sacred is in thee." His arms 
Hung at his side : he did not shrink or sway ; 
His flesh touched Thorsten's where the belts were 

joined. 
And felt its warmth. Then twice did Thorsten lift 
His armed hand, and twice he let it sink : 

470 An anguish came upon his face : he groaned, 
And all that heard him marvelled at the words : 
" Have pity on me ; turn away thine eyes : 

I cannot slay thee while they look on me ! " 
" If I could end this bloody custom so, 

475 In all the land, nor plant a late remorse 

For what is here thy justice," answered Lars, 
" I could not say thee nay. Yet, if the deed 
Be good, thou shouldst have courage for the deed ! ''' 
Once more looked Thorsten in those loving eyes, 

480 And shrank, and shuddered, and grew deadly pale, 
Till, with a gasp for breath, as one who drowns 
Draws, when he dips again above the wave. 
He loosed the clutching belts, and sat him down 
And l^d his face : they heard him only say : 

MS " 'T were well that I should die, for very shame ! " 



78 LARS. 

Lars heard, and spake to all : "■ The shame is mine, 
Whose coward heart betrayed me unto guilt. 
I slew my brother Per, nor sought his blood : 
Thou, Thorsten, wilt not mine ; I read thy heart 

590 But ye, who trample on the soul of man 
In still demanding he shall ne'er outgrow 
The savage in his veins, through faith in Good, 
Who Thorsten rule, even as ye ruled myself, — 
I call ye to repent ! That God we left, 

495 White Balder, were more merciful than this : 
If one, henceforward, cast on Thorsten shame, 
The Lord shall smite him when the judgment comes ! " 

Never before, such words in such a place 

Were preached by such apostle. Bared, as though 

500 For runes of death, while red Berserker rage 
Kindled in some, in others smouldered out, 
He raised his hand and pointed to the sky : 
Far off, behind the silent fells, there rolled 
A sudden thunder. Ruth, who all the while 

505 Moved not nor spake, stood forth, and o'er her face 
There came the glory of an opening heaven. 
Now that she knew the habit of the folk. 
She spake not ; but she clothed the form of Lars 
In silence, and the women, weeping, helped. 

BIO Then Thorsten rose, and seeing her, he said : 

495. Balder, or Baldur, who is also called the White God, is the beneficent 
deity of spring and sunshine of the Northern mythology. 

500. The alphabet of the ancient Germans and Scandinavians consisted of 
runes. There were originally sixteen of them ; and they served principally as 
means to foretell the future, to work enchantment, and keep off evil. For 
these purposes the characters were scratched on strips of beech or willow-bark, 
each rune signifying a word which began with the respective letter. There 
were runes of victory, of hearth and home, of love, etc. Old men, rather 
than die the disgraceful " straw-death " shed their own blood by cutting death, 
runes into their breasts. These represented words m praise of Oden, their 
god of battle, who was at the same time AUvater (father of all). 



LARS, 79 

" Thou art his wife ; they tell me thou art good. 
I am no bloodier than thy husband was 
Before he knew thee : hast thou aught to say ? " 
She took his hand and spake, as one inspired : 

B15 " Thou couldst not make thyself a man of blood ! 
This is thy seed of blessing : let it grow ! 
Gladness of heart, and peace, and honored name 
Shall come to thee : the unrighteous, cruel law 
Is broken by thy hands, no less than his 

520 Who loves thee, and would sooner die than harm ! " 
" They speak the truth," said Thorsten ; " thou art 
good. 
And it were surely bitter grief to thee 
If I had slain him. Go ! his blood is safe 
From hands of mine." 

His words the most approved ; 

626 The rest, bewildered, knew not what to say. 
In these the stubborn mind and plastic heart 
Agreed not quickly, for the thing was strange, 
An olden tale with unforeboded end : 
They must have time. The crowd soon fell apart, 

530 Some faces glad, all solemn, and dispersed ; 
Except one woman, who, from time to time. 
Pressed forward, then, as with uncertain will. 
Turned back as often. Troubled was her face 
And worn : within the hollows of her eyes 

635 Dwelt an impatient sorrow, and her lips 

Had from themselves the girlish fulness pressed. 
Her hair hung negligent, though plenteous still ; 
And beauty that no longer guards itself, 
But listlessly beholds its ruin come, 

640 Made her an apparition wild and sad, 
A cloud on others' joy. 

526. Plastic is used here in its original meaning of moulding, making an 
impression, from a Greek word signifying to form. 



80 LARS. 

Lars, as he left 
That field unsullied, saw the woman stand. 
" Brita ! " he cried ; and all the past returned 
And all the present mixed with it, and made 
546 ^is mouth to quiver and his eyes to fill : 
" Unhappy Brita, and I made thee so ! 
Is there forgiveness yet for too much love 
And foolish faith, that brought us double woe ? 
I dare not ask it ; couldst thou give unasked ? " 
B60 Her face grew hard to keep the something back 
Which softened her: "Make Per alive," she said, 
" One moment only, that he pardon me, 
And thou art pardoned ! else, I think, canst thou 
Bear silence, as I bear it from the dead. 
655 Oh, thou hast done me harm ! " But Ruth addresed 
These words to her : " I never did thee harm, 
Yet on my soul my husband's guilt to thee 
Is made a shadow : let me be thy friend ! 
Only a woman knows a woman's need." 

660 Lars understood the gesture and the glance 

Which Ruth then gave, and hastened on the path 
To join his kindred, leaving them alone. 
So Ruth by Brita walked, and spake to her 
In words whose very sound a comfort gave, 

865 Like some soft wind that o'er an arid land, 
Unfelt at first, fans on with cooling wings 
Till all the herbage freshens, and the soil 
Is moist with dew ; and Brita's arid heart 
Thus opened : " Yea, all this is very well. 

570 So much thou knowest, being woman, — love 
Of man, and man's of thee, and both declared : 
But say, how canst thou measure misery 
Of love that lost its chances, made the Past 



LARS. 81 

One dumbness, and forever reckons o'er 
P7B The words unspoken, which to both were sweet, 
The touch of hands that never binding met. 
The kisses, never given and never took, 
The hopes and raptures that were never shared, — 
Nay, worse than this, for she withheld, who knew 
ISO They might have been, from him who never knew ! " 

Therewith her passion loosed itself in sobs. 
And on the pitying breast of Ruth she wept 
Her heart to calmness ; then, with less of pain. 
She told the simple story of her life : 

685 How, scarce two years before, her grandam died, 
Who would have seen her wedded, and was wroth, 
At times, in childish petulance of age, 
But kinder — 't was a blessing ! — ere she died. 
Leaving the cottage highest on the slope, 

590 Naught else, to Brita ; but her wants were few. 
The garden helped her, and the spotted cow, 
Now old, indeed : she span the winter through, 
And there was meal enough, and Thorsten gave 
Sometimes a fish, because she grieved for Per ; 

596 And, now the need of finery was gone, — 
For men came not a-wooing where consent 
Abode not, — she had made the least suffice. 
Yes, she was lonely : it was better so. 
For she must learn to live in loneliness. 

600 As much as unto Ruth she had not said 
To any woman, trusting her, it seemed. 
Without a knowledge, more than them she kneWc 
" Yea, trust me. Sister Brita ! " Ruth replied, 
" And try to love : my heart is drawn to thee." 

•05 Thereafter, many a day, went Ruth alone 
To Brita's cottage, vexing not with words 
6 



82 LARS. 

That woke her grief, and silent as to Lars, 
Till Brita learned to smile when she appeared, 
And missed her when she came not. Now, mean- 
while, 

610 The news of Lars, and Thorsten's foiled revenge 
Beside the lake of Graven, travelled far 
Past Vik and Vossevangen, o'er the fells, 
To all the homesteads of the Bergenstift ; 
And every gentle heart leaped up in joy, 

616 While those of restless old Berserker blood 
Beat hot with wrath. Who oversets old laws. 
They said, is dangerous ; and who is he 
That dares to preach, and hath not been ordained ? 
This thing concerns the ministers, they whom 

620 The State sets over us, with twofold power. 
Divine and secular, to teach and rule. 
Then he, the shepherd of the Ulvik flock, 
Not now that good old man, but one whose youth 
More hateful showed his Christless bigotry, 

62B Made Sabbaths hot with his anathemas 
Of Lars, and stirred a tumult in the land. 
Some turned away, and all grew faint of heart 
Seeing the foothold yield, and slip ; till Lars, 
Now shunned at home, and drawn by messages 

630 From Gustaf Hansen and the faithful souls 
1\\ Arendal, said : " It is time to go." 

" Nay, tarry but a little while," spake Ruth. 
" I have my purpose here as thou hadst thine : 

613. Norway is divided into four dioceses or stifts, one of which is Bergen. 

625. In the New Testament the meaning given to anathema is that of a 
curse. The formula : " Anathema esto " — be cursed — is used by the Roman 
Catholic Church for excommunication, that is casting out of the pale of the 
Church those who differ from its doctrines. Outside of it, it is used in the 
iense of a religious denunciation. 



LARS. 83 

Grant me but freedom, for the end, I think, 
B35 Is justified." 

Lars answered : " Have thy will ! " 

She summoned Brita, and the twain went down 
To pace the scanty strand beside the wave, 
Which, after storm, was quiet, though the gloom 
Of high, opposing mountains filled the fiord. 

640 Ruth spake of parting ; Brita answered not, 
But up and down in silence walked the strand, 
Then suddenly : " No message sendeth Lars ? 
My pardon he implored ; and that, to thee, 
I know, were welcome. Hadst thou asked, per- 
chance, 

645 Perverse in sorrow, I should still withhold ; 
But thou departest, who hast been so kind, 
And I — ah, God ! what else have I to give ? " 
" The Lord requite thee, Brita ! " Ruth exclaimed ; 
" The gift that blesses must be given unasked : 

650 What now remains is easy. Come with us. 
With Lars and me, and be our home thy home, 
All peace we win, all comfort, thine as ours ! " 

Once more walked Brita up and down the strand. 
Bowing her face upon her shielding hands, 

«56 As if to muse, unwatched ; then stood, and seemed 
About to speak, when, with a shrilling cry 
She sprang, and fell, and grovelled on her knees. 
And thrust her fingers in the wet sea-sand. 
Ruth, all in terror, ran to her, and saw 

660 How, from the bones of some long-wasted fish 
An osprey dropped, or tempest beat to death, 
Caught in the breakers, and the drifted shells, 

661. The osprey (falco ossifragus) is a sea-bird, whose principal food is fish. 



84 LARS. 

And tangles of the rotting kelp, she plucked 
Something that sparkled, pressed it to her lips, 

666 And cried : " A sign ! a sign ! 't is grandam speaks ! ** 
Then trembling rose, and flung herself on Ruth, 
And kissed her, saying : "I will follow thee. 
My heart assented, yet I had denied. 
But, ere I spake, the miracle was done ! 

670 Thy words give back the jewel lost with Per : 
Tell Lars I do forgive him, and will serve 
Thee, Ruth, a willing handmaid, in thy home ! " 
So Brita went with them to Arendal. 
There milder habits, easier government 

675 Of bench and pulpit for a while left all 
In peace : and not alone within the fold 
Of Friends came Brita, but the Lord inspired. 
She spake with power, as one by suffering taught 
A chastened spirit, and she wrought good works. 

680 She was a happy matron ere she died. 

And blessing came on all ; for, from that day 
Of doubt and anguish by the Graven lake, 
The Lord fulfilled in Ruth one secret prayer. 
And gave her children ; and the witness borne 

685 By Lars, the voice of his unsprinkled blood, 
Became a warning on Norwegian hills. 

Here, now, they fade. The purpose of their lives 
Was lifted up, by something over life. 
To power and service. Though the name of Lars 
890 Be never heard, the healing of the world 
Is in its nameless saints. Each separate star 
Seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars 
Break up the Night, and make it beautiful. 

663. Kelp is a species of sea-weed (of the genus Salicomia) . 



THE SONG OF THE CAMP. 

" Give us a song ! " the soldiers cried, 

The outer trenches guarding, 
When the heated guns of the camps allied 

Grew weary of bombarding. 

5 The dark Redan, in silent scoff, 

Lay, grim and threatening, under ; 
And the tawny mound of the Malakoff 
No longer belched its thunder. 

There was a pause. A guardsman said 
10 " We storm the forts to-morrow ; 
Sing while we may, another day 
Will bring enough of sorrow." 

They lay along the battery's side, 
Below the smoking cannon : 
15 Brave hearts, from Severn and from Clyde, 
And from the banks of Shannon. 

They sang of love, and not of fame ; 
Forgot was Britain's glory : 

3. The chief feature of the Crimean War (1854-1855) was the siege of Se- 
bastopol, a Russian town, with an important harbor, on the Black Sea. The 
uUied forces besieging it were those of England, France and Turkey. 

5. The most powerful fortifications erected by the Russians for the defence 
of Sebastopol were on the Malakoff hill, and among tliem the one most prom- 
inent and threatening was the tower, called the great Eedan. 



86 THE SONG OF THE CAMP. 

Each heart recalled a different name, 
20 But all sang " Annie Laurie." 

Voice after voice caught up the song, 

Until its tender passion 
Rose like an anthem, rich and strong, — = 

Their battle-eve confession. 

25 Dear girl, her name he dared not speak, 
But, as the song grew louder. 
Something upon the soldier's cheek 
Washed off the stains of powder. 

Beyond the darkening ocean burned 
30 The bloody sunset's embers, 
While the Crimean valleys learned 
How English love remembers. 

And once again a fire of hell 
Rained on the Russian quarters, 
35 With scream of shot, and burst of shell. 
And bellowing of the mortars ! 

And Irish Nora's eyes are dim 

For a singer, dumb and gory ; 
And English Mary mourns for him 
10 Who sang of " Annie Laurie." 

Sleep, soldiers ! still in honored rest 
Your truth and valor wearing : 

The bravest are the tenderest, — 
The loving are the daring. 



THE PALM AND THE PINE. 87 



THE PALM AND THE PINEo 

When Peter led the First Crusade, 
A Norseman wooed an Arab maid. 

He loved her lithe and palmy grace, 
And the dark beauty of her face : 

5 She loved his cheeks, so ruddy fair. 
His sunny eyes and yellow hair. 

He called : she left her father's tent ; 
She followed wheresoe'er he went. 

She left the palms of Palestine 
10 To sit beneath the Norland pine. 

She sang the musky Orient strains 
Where Winter swept the snowy plains. 

Their natures met like Night and Morn 
What time the morning-star is born. 

15 The child that from their meeting grew 
Hung, like that star, between the two. 

The glossy night his mother shed 
From her long hair was on his head : 

1. Peter oj Amiens, a monk, was the first to exhort the people of Europe to 
rescue Jerusalem aud its holy places from the hands of the Infidels. He put 
himself at the head of the undisciplined masses who, under the sign of the 
Cross, gathered for the purpose of marching to Palestine and conquering Je- 
rusalem. He failed in his attempt of leadership (1096) ; but, nevertheless, 
the first Crusade was carried to a successful end three years later, by God- 
frey of Bouillon. 



88 THE PALM AND THE PINF^ 

But in its shade they saw arise 
20 The morning of his father's eyes. 

Beneath the Orient's tawny stain 
Wandered the Norseman's crimson vein : 

Beneath the Northern force was seen 
The Arab sense, alert and keen. 

25 His were the Viking's sinewy hands, 
The arching foot of Eastern lands. 

And in his soul conflicting strove 
Northern indifference, Southern love; 

The chastity of temperate blood, 
30 Impetuous passion's fiery flood ; 

The settled faith that nothing shakes, 
The jealousy a breath awakes ; 

The planning Reason's sober gaze. 
And fancy's meteoric blaze. 

>5 And stronger, as he grew to man, 
The contradicting natures ran, — 

As mingled streams from Etna flow, 
One born of fire, and one of snow. 

25. The name Vikings applied in the middle ages to the Scandinavians, and 
especially to the population of Norway. 

37. Mount Etna., in Sicily, is the highest of the three active volcanoes of 
Europe. Its upper regions are bare of all vegetation, and for the greater part 
covered with ice and snow. 

LofC. 



THE PALM AND THE PINE. 89 

And one impelled, and one withheld, 
40 And one obeyed, and one rebelled. 

One gave him force, the other fire ; 
This self-control, and that desire. 

One filled his heart with fierce unrest ; 
With peace serene the other blessed. 

45 He knew the depth and knew the height, 
The bounds of darkness and of light ; 

And who these far extremes has seen 
Must needs know all that lies between. 

So, with untaught, instinctive art, 
50 He read the myriad-natured heart. 

He met the men of many a land ; 
They gave their souls into his hand ; 

And none of them was long unknown, 
The hardest lesson was his own. 

55 But how he lived, and where and when 
It matters not to other men ; 

For, as a fountain disappears, 
To gush again in later years, 

So hidden blood may find the day, 
60 When centuries have rolled away ; 



90 SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 

And fresher lives betray at last 
The lineage of a far-off Past. 

That nature, mixed of sun and snow 
Repeats its ancient ebb and flow : 

65 The children of the Palm and Pine 
Renew their blended lives — in mine. 



SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 



An old and crippled veteran to the War Department 

came ; 
He sought the Chief who led him on many a field of 

fame, — 
The Chief who shouted " Forward ! " where'er his 

banner rose, 
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes. 

II. 

5 " Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier 

cried, 
" The days of Eighteen Hundred Twelve, when I was 

at your side ? 
Have you forgotten Johnson, that fought at Lundy's 

Lane? 
'T is true, I 'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight 

again." 

2. General Winfield Scott was the highest in command of the United States 
Army at the beginning of the War of the Rebellion. 

7. Lundy''s Lane is near Niagara Falls. A battle was fought there during 
the war of 1812, in which the British army was defeated. 



SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 91 

III. 
" Have I forgotten ? " said the Chief ; " my brave old 
soldier, No ! 
10 And here 's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell 
you so : 
But you have done your share, my friend ; you 're 

crippled, old and gray, 
And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood 
to-day." 

IV. 

" But, General," cried the veteran, a flush npon his 

brow, 
" The very men who fought with us, they say, are 

traitors now ; 
15 They 've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, — our old 

red, white, and blue ; 
And while a drop of blood is left, I '11 show that drop 

is true. 

V. 

" I 'm not so weak but I can strike, and I 've a good 

old gun 
To get the range of traitors' hearts, and pick them, 

one by one. 
Your Minie rifles, and such arms, it a'n't worth while 

to try : 
20 I could n't get the hang o' them, but I '11 keep my 

powder dry ! " 



" God bless you, comrade I " said the Chief ; " God 

bless your loyal heart ! 
But younger men are in the field, and claim to have 

their part : 



92 SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 

They '11 plant our sacred banner in each rebellious 

tovyn, 
And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to pull it 

down ! " 

VII. 

25 " But, General," — still persisting, the weeping vet- 
eran cried, 

"^ I 'm young enough to follow, so long as you 're my 
guide ; 

And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that, at 
least, can I, — 

So, give the young ones place to fight, but me a place 
to die ! 

VIII. 

" If they should fire on Pickens, let the Colonel in 

command 
30 Put me upon the rampart, with the flag-staff in my 

hand : 
No odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the shells 

may fly ; 
I '11 hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them 

till I die ! 

IX. 

" I 'm ready, General, so you let a post to me be 

given. 
Where Washington can see me, as he looks from 

highest heaven, 

29. Fort Pickens, at Pensacola, was one of the three forts whose command- 
ers refused to give them up to the Confederacy when ordered to do so, in 
February, 18G1, immediately after the secession of Florida. 



A THOUSAND YEARS. 93 

35 And say to Putnam at his side, or may be, General 
"Wayne ; 
' There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at Lun- 
dy's Lane ! ' 



"And when the fight is hottest, before the traitors 

fly, 

When shell and ball are screeching and bursting in 
the sky. 

If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my face, 
40 My soul would go to Washington's and not to Ar- 
nold's place." 



A THOUSAND YEARS. 

[Novgorod, Russia, September 20, 1862.] 

A THOUSAND years ! Through storm and fire. 
With varying fate, the work has grown, 

Till Alexander crowns the spire, 
Where Rurik laid the corner-stone. 

o The chieftain's sword, that could not rust, 
But bright in constant battle grew, 
Raised to the world a throne august, — 
A nation grander than he knew. 

Nor he, alone ; but those who have, 
10 Through faith or deed, an equal part : 



4. It was during the reign of Alexander II. that the celebration took place 
of the one thousandth anniversary of the foundation of the Russian Empire 
by Eurik, the chieftain of a tribe of NortI:eru origin. 



94 A THOUSAND YEARS. 

The subtle brain of Yaroslav, 

Vladimir's arm and Nikon's heart : 

The later hands, that built so well 

The work sublime which these began, 
15 And up from base to pinnacle 

Wrought out the Empire's mighty plan„ 

All these, to-day, are crowned anew, 
' And rule in splendor where they trod. 

While Russia's children throng to view 
20 Her holy cradle, Novgorod. 

From Volga's banks ; from Dwina's side ; 

From pine-clad Ural, dark and long ; 
Or where the foaming Terek's tide 

Leaps down from Kasbek, bright with song 

25 From Altai's chain of mountain-cones ; 
Mongolian deserts, far and free ; 
And lands that bind, through changing zones, 
The Eastern and the Western sea ! 



12. Vladimir, surnamed the Great, was a great-grandson of Rurik. He 
fought against neighboring tribes, subjected them to his rule, and added their 
territories to his own possessions. Yaroslav, his son, succeeded him. He 
proved himself a statesman in promoting the inner development of the yoimg 
empire. Nikon, born 1605, was a peasant's son, who rose to be Patriarch of 
Russia. 

20. The old province of Novgorod, situated southeasterly of St. Petersburg, 
is the nucleus from which Russia has grown to what it is to-day. The town 
of Novgorod is the oldest of the Empire, having been built by Rurik. 

24. The river Terek has its sources in one of the most romantic parts of the 
Caucasian mountain chain, of which the Kasbek is one of the highest peaks. 
" The Songs of Mirza-Shaffy," by tlie German poet Friedrich Bodeustedt, are 
closely connected with that grand and picturesque mountain region. 



A THOUSAND YEARS. 95 

To every race she gives a home, 
30 And creeds and laws enjoy her shade, 
Till, far beyond the dreams of Rome, 
Her Caesar's mandate is obeyed. 

She blends the virtues they impart. 
And holds, within her life combined, 
35 The patient faith of Asia's heart, — 
The force of Europe's restless mind. 

She bids the nomad's wanderings cease ; 

She binds the wild marauder fast ; 
Her ploughshares turn to homes of peace 
40 The battle-fields of ages past. 

And, nobler yet, she dares to know 
Her future's task, nor knows in vain ; 

But strikes at once the general blow 
That makes her millions men again ! 

« So, firmer-based, her power expands, 

Nor yet has seen its crowning hour, 

Still teaching to the struggling lands 
That Peace the offspring is of Power. 

Build then, the storied bronze, to tell 

50 The steps whereby this height be trod, 

The thousand years that chronicle 
The toil of Man, the help of God ! 

And may the thousand years to come, — 
The future ages, wise and free, — 

44. Alexander II., a year before the celebration at Novgorod, had given 
freedom to the Russian serfs. 



96 MABIGOLD. 

S5 Still see her flag, and hear her drum 
Across the world, from sea to sea ! - 

Still find, a symbol stern and grand, 

Her ancient eagle's wings unshorn : 

One head to watch the Western land, 

so And one to guard the land of morn 

MARIGOLD. 

Homely, forgotten flower, 
Under the rose's bower, 

Plain as a weed. 
Thou, the half-summer long, 
5 Waitest and waxest strong. 
Even as waits a song 

Till men shall heed. 

Then, when the lilies die, 
And the carnations lie 
10 In spicy death, 

Over thy bushy sprays 
Burst with a sudden blaze 
Stars of the August days. 
With Autumn's breath. 

25 Fain would the calyx hold ; 
But splits, and half the gold 

Spills lavishly : 
Frost, that the rose appalls, 
Wastes not thy coronals, 
CO Till summer's lustre falls. 
And fades in thee. 



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